Newsies Sell Papes
by MeganThreeSix
Summary: Nick has been selling newspapers on the streets of NYC for years, while Jeff is just starting out. When these two boys meet, they plan to take on the World. Based on the movie/musical Newsies. You don't have to know Newsies to understand the story. Rated T for language and slight violence.
1. The New Kid on the Block

_This story is based on the movie/musical Newsies. You don't have to know the movie or stage musical to understand the story._

_This story takes place in 1899 in New York City. This story was published first on a Warblers fanfiction site called Quoth The Warbler._

_I obviously don't own anything from Glee or Newsies._

_For anyone who needs a breakdown of some slang used:_

_muckety-muck - someone who is of higher class, richer, etc_

_pape/papes - slang for newspapers_

_newsie - a young boy, usually a teenager, who back in the day would go around selling newspapers_

_Hope you enjoy!_

* * *

"_Headlines don't sell papes. Newsies sell papes."_

Nick stifled a condescending smirk as another coin joined the already jingling collection in his pocket. The customer thought he was getting a quality headline, a riveting story to read on his way to work. But in reality the guy was just another sucker to add to Nick's list. There goes a wasted nickel, the man would say later. He just got conned by some street rat newsboy!

All in a day's work for Nick.

Nick straightened up his pile of newspapers—he had about half of his stock left to sell for the day—and continued on as soon as his previous customer was out of earshot. He fixed his hat and brushed off his already dirty and ratty clothes before scanning Central Park. The crowd appeared to be thinning out a bit. Of course. It was working hours of the day, for most. It'll be harder for Nick to sell his stock, at least until lunch rolled around. Now was the time to get a bit creative.

He glanced down at the morning's headline again: TROLLEY STRIKE ENTERS THIRD WEEK. It wasn't an exciting headline. No one would be interested in that. But that wasn't a problem for an experienced newsie like Nick.

"Extry! Extry! Riot breaks out at Trolley Headquarters! Hear about it here only!" Nick called as he strolled down the path, earning him a few more coins to add to his collection as four men stopped to buy a newspaper. No one thought twice about the phony headline before giving up their precious pennies for a pape.

Twenty minutes passed after that without a single customer. Though, admittedly Nick was getting a bit tired. He stopped to take a breather by a large boulder just off the path and watched others stroll on their merry way. The sun gleamed down on Central Park, the summer air warm against Nick's body. A slight breeze rustled the trees above him, and the subtle chatter and bustle of the park with the city around it provided its usual ambiance to Nick's workplace. It was a great day to be working outside.

As he sat in the shade of an evergreen tree, Nick sometimes wondered, since his customers were supposed to be smart, how long it would take them to realize that they were getting phony stories. Nick would make up fake headlines on his way to the park then use those fakes to sell his stock. But it wasn't just Nick: every newsie did it. How long would it take before all these muckety-mucks would realize what was going on? But then he would feel the growing pile of nickels in his pocket and the thought would disappear.

Nick lounged back against the boulder with his hands behind his head. He planned on waiting until around noon before trying to sell again. That way he'd catch everyone on their lunch breaks from work. Nick watched as some kids chased each other around the groomed lawns, young couples held hands on their morning walks, and some dressed in their fancy-clothes rushed past, probably late for work. It was the usual hustle-and-bustle of Central Park. Nick always sold his papes here. This was his territory.

So why was that blonde kid here with his own stock of newspapers?

Nick sat up and watched the kid. He remembered seeing the guy earlier at the distribution center. The guy was just ahead of Nick in line, only bought twenty papers, and got shoved away from the counter by Thad when he tried to argue about price. His hair was possibly the brightest shade of yellow that hair could be. He was tall and wore a spiffy, gray button-up shirt, a dark blue vest, and a clean pair of trousers. His hat was also very clean, as if it were new, and sat perfectly atop the kid's extremely bright hair. The guy's clothes were the first things that tipped Nick off on who he was: some rich boy probably trying to get some spare change by selling some newspapers for a day. Or maybe he lost a bet. Either way, Nick enjoyed watching the guy's pitiful attempts at trying to sell.

"Buy a paper, Ma'am?" the guy approached a middle-aged woman, who shook her head and avoided eye contact with him. "News about the trolley strike, sir." He tried again at a younger looking man with a briefcase. Still no luck.

Nick chuckled and stood up. _Watch and learn, Newbie_. Nick smiled. He held up a newspaper above his head, "Extry! Trolley strike enters third week! Riots break out in Brooklyn!"

The man that the guy tried to sell to earlier stopped as he passed Nick. He gave Nick a quizzical look.

"See it here only, sir!" Nick said. The man fished into his pocket, produced a shiny new coin, and exchanged the currency for Nick's paper. "Thank you sir." Nick said kindly. The man continued on his way.

Nick leaned back against his boulder with the biggest grin he had in a long time. He side glanced at the blonde boy, who witnessed the whole thing. Nick laughed out loud as he saw the boy's surprised expression: eyebrows raised so high they could fly right off his face and jaw dropped to the pavement below his feet.

"You can learn somethin' new every day, can't'cha?" Nick said to the boy.

"Where did you get that headline?" the guy asked, regaining a bit of his composure. But not much.

"Same place I get all my headlines," Nick tapped his temple, "Where all the good newsies get 'em."

The guy gave Nick a confused look, "You made it up?"

"So you are one of the smart ones." Nick said. He picked up his pile of papers and began to walk away from the blonde. The guy was too proper in his speech for Nick's liking. Plus, Nick didn't have time to "shoot the breeze" with some rich boy. Nick had papers to sell. Unlike this guy, who probably couldn't sell his own hat for a penny.

"One of that smart whats?" Nick heard the guy's question followed by the footsteps running to catch up. The blonde stopped Nick and faced him. Nick was a good six inches shorter than this boy, "What are you saying I am?"

Nick scoffed. Was this guy serious? Judging by the stern look in the guy's eyes, he definitely was, "It ain't hard to tell what 'cha are."

"Which is?"

"A muckety-muck. Rich boy. It's good though. Most of them ain't as smart as you seem to be. And those dummies are the ones that I sell my papes to."

The guy still looked a little puzzled as Nick brushed past him. It was almost noon. A bigger crown would be out soon.

"Wait!" The guy caught up with Nick again. But before he could speak, Nick interrupted him.

"Look, bein' a Newsie ain't for everyone. Especially for someone like you. So why don't 'cha go back to your mansion and play a little Mozart tune on your fancy piano, okay?" Nick usually wasn't this rude to people. It even took him off guard. Maybe because his pride of being a newsie was being threatened.

"I don't have a fancy piano." The guy said.

"Oh, well _my apologies_." Nick said with a heavy dose of sarcasm.

"I barely even have a house anymore."

Nick paused. As if this guy had just taken Nick's stock and hit him in the gut with it, "No?"

The blonde shook his head, "Nah. Dad lost his job at the factory. I'm just trying to get us some money. Anything we can get will help." The boy sighed and kicked a pebble. Nick watched with crossed arms as the boy kept his eyes down casted on the ground, "And by the looks of it I really need your help."

Nick knew he should just leave this guy. This was Nick's territory. Nick sold his stock here every day without any competition from the other newsies. And he still had about twenty papes to sell for today. He didn't have time to babysit this guy. But there was something in the guy's eyes—a hazel color that glinted in the sunlight—and in his soft, melancholy expression that kept Nick rooted to the spot. "What's your name?" Nick finally asked.

"Jeff. You?"

"Nick." Nick held out his hand and Jeff shook it with a firm grip, a new light brightening Jeff's face as he realized Nick wasn't going to leave him. "Well, Jeff, it looks like I'm gonna teach ya how to be a…decent newsie. First thing's first." Nick snatched Jeff's hat from the blonde's head, and tucked it into his back pocket, "You can have your hat back when you deserve it."

Jeff was completely floored, "And when will that be?"

"When you convince me you are a good newsie. You gotta earn this. So you had better not give up, got it?"

Jeff rolled his eyes and nodded. And before he knew it, Nick slammed his entire stock of papers into Jeff's chest, knocking the wind out of him, "Ow." Jeff breathed quietly.

"We'll sell together today." Nick offered, "Then we can each get half of the dough. Deal?"

"Deal." Jeff hefted the stock of papers so they now rested on his shoulder, "So what's first?"

Nick noticed that the crowds were beginning to thicken again with the midday lunch rush. Perfect. "First rule ya need to learn: Headlines don't sell papes. Newsies sell papes." He said, "You think any of these muckety-mucks care about the trolley strike?"

"No?"

"Exactly. Which is where we come in. Watch and learn." Nick pulled a newspaper away from the stock, ran to the nearest bench and hopped on top of it. Nick now stood out above the crowd as he called out, "Extry! Extry! Trolly strike rally goes wrong in Harlem! Many people hurt! Exclusive news here only!" The paper Nick held was soon exchanged for a nickel and Nick was in need of more as several others asked for the headline. Jeff rushed over and handed out papers and Nick collected the money.

Jeff felt overwhelmed at the success as he and Nick continued across the park, selling mock stories, their profit growing steadily by the hour. Jeff had hoped to go home with a bit of change. He never imagined going home tonight with all the money he was collecting now. Soon, they only had three papers left to sell.

"Damn," Jeff sighed as he gazed at their reduced stock, "You sure do know how to sell."

Nick shrugged and took a seat on a bench, "Been doing this for a long time. Ya need to learn quick in this business."

"So is it my job to sell that last three?" Jeff asked.

Nick smirked, "All yours, Jeffiie-boy."

Jeff scanned the park around him, "Who do I go for?" he asked.

"Bankers, barbers, business men. They all knows how to read." Nick said.

Jeff took a deep breath as a fancy man walked past them, "Read about it here! Trolley strike costs thousands of dollars!"

The man stopped and glanced at Jeff, "Thousands, you say?"

"Yes sir," Jeff said with perfect charisma, "Putting lots out of business."

The man appeared to be very shocked at the news, as he pulled out a nickel and handed it to Jeff. The man left with the newspaper and began scanning the pages' contents.

Nick raised his eyebrows, "Impressive." He lounged back on the bench, "Two more to go, Jeffie-boy."

Jeff gladly accepted the challenge. But it would be difficult. A lot of the passing adults already had papers in their hands. The day was drawing to a close. And he still had two papers to sell. Jeff flipped open the paper, skipping the stories about the trolley strike. There was a story about the Central Park zoo, and some little snippet about Charles Dickens. Maybe he could work with this instead. Maybe he didn't always have to make up a fake headline to sell.

A young woman, dressed in a beautiful pink dress and holding the hand of presumably her daughter was coming down the path towards the two boys. Jeff figured it was worth a shot. He had nothing to lose.

Jeff waited until the woman and child got closer before calling out, "Read all about it! Central Park zoo takes in new animals! See them here only!"

It was an immediate reaction: the little girl tugged on her mother's dress and pointed to Jeff. It was working.

"Momma! Momma, _please_!" The girl begged.

"Alright, alright." The woman approached Jeff, "One newspaper, please."

Jeff handed the paper to the little girl, who clutched it as if it were a new doll. Jeff pocketed the coin that the mother gave him, "Thank you for your business, ma'am. And may I also add, there's a fascinating piece about Dickens in this edition." Jeff turned on his natural charm.

"Really?" The woman glanced down at her daughter, who was clutching the paper so tightly that it was crinkling in her tiny grip, and then back up at Jeff, who flashed his handsome smile, "I'll take another." She said.

Nick watched in awe as Jeff sold the last of the stock and rejoined Nick on the bench. The blonde boy had definitely blown Nick away just now. Maybe he wouldn't be as bad a newsie as Nick thought. The shorter boy was at a loss for words, "Damn" was all he could say.

"Not too bad, huh?" Jeff was still smiling.

Nick couldn't help but smile as well. He pulled Jeff's hat out of his back pocket—the hat he'd confiscated from the blonde earlier—and examined it for a bit. It looked almost exactly like the one Nick currently wore: sturdy brown and gray threading with a soft cotton inside, and a symbol for the maker on the back. Except Nick's hat was worn out from excessive use and wear. Newsies were known for wearing these. Newsie hats were earned in this business.

Nick handed the hat back to Jeff, "I believe you deserve this back. Nice work today." Jeff accepted the reward with a huge grin and a slight blush in his cheeks, "You want to join me again tomorrow?"

Jeff fit his hat back on his head, "Absolutely."

The two newsies walked side by side through Central Park, chatting easily about the day's customers and about anything else Jeff needed to know about being a newsie. Nick liked Jeff, and found himself hoping they could sell together for more than just the next few days that awaited them.

* * *

_reviews are appreciated :)_


	2. The Manhattan Newsies

_So I'm fully aware that in the first chapter, I said this would be a one shot. But plot bunnies kept popping up and I really wanted to continue._

_This chapter is mainly used to introduce the other newsies in the story. _

_This chapter was posted first on a Warbler fanfic website called Quoth The Warbler. I will always update this story there first before updating it here._

_I'd also like to say this story is dedicated to my best and Newsies obsessed friend Nic! _

* * *

Nick awoke the next morning to the usual wake up call in the newsie boarding house. The early-birds were already up and bustling around, getting ready for their day. While several other boys were still groggily pulling their blankets over their heads, attempting to get a few more minutes asleep. Being a newsie doesn't turn everybody into a morning person no matter how early they had to get up.

Nick hopped down from his top bunk and pulled a set of clothes out from the drawer he shared with his bunkmate, who lounged on his own bed casually puffing at a cigar. Nick pulled his shirt on and plucked the cigar right out of his bunkmate's mouth to take his own drag.

"Hey! That's my cigar!" Blaine protested.

"You'll steal another." Nick took another drag and handed the cigar back to Blaine.

Blaine sat up on his bed; his shirt hanging loosely over his shoulders and his hat perched over his dark curly hair. Blaine was all dressed and ready to tackle the day. He was the best newsie in Manhattan and the leader of the Manhattan newsies. Everyone looked up to Blaine Anderson, and in return, Blaine looked out for his gang. So Nick knew that Blaine definitely had something to say when he caught Blaine eying him while he pulled on his shoes.

"Somethin' wrong?" Nick asked with a hint of snark in his voice. Blaine may have been the leader of the Manhattan newsies, but the two had been best friends for years.

Blaine shrugged, "You sell your entire lot yesterday?"

"Yeah," Nick narrowed his eyes as he finished lacing his boots, "Why are ya askin'?"

"I finished sellin' early yesterday," Blaine said, taking another puff of his cigar, "And I passed by Central Park on my way home. To see if ya needed any help."

Nick smirked, "I never need help selling my papes."

Blaine gave his friend a look, "Really? 'Cause it sure looked like you got help yesterday."

So Blaine had seen Nick and Jeff selling together. Nick scoffed, "He wasn't helpin' me." Nick walked away from the bunk, grabbing his hat on his way.

But Blaine wasn't finished with the conversation so soon, "So what was goin' on?"

"Why do you care?" Nick snapped. He didn't mean to sound so defensive. But he really didn't like the way Blaine was interrogating him about Jeff.

The two boys passed by the communal bathroom, catching the usual sounds of running water and the boys taunting each other, "Hey look! It's bath time at the zoo!" David yelled at Thad, who threw his wet sponge at David's head in retaliation.

"Hey, calm down there guys." Blaine yelled in at the boys.

David rolled his eyes, but caught sight of Nick in doing so. The boy's expression changed, and he elbowed his friend Wes before speaking up, "Hey Nicky, meet a new friend yesterday?" David and Wes chortled.

"Maybe he needs help from a muckety-muck to sell his papes 'cause the orphan story ain't workin' anymore." Wes joked.

"I don't need no help sellin' my papes. I sell a helluva lot more than you two idiots!" Nick retorted with a sneer.

"Well then who was that spiffy kid you were with yesterday?" Thad asked.

Nick sighed. He may have been young, but sometimes he swore he was the oldest guy in the newsie house, "His name's Jeff. He's been needin' extra money so I helped him out yesterday."

"Nick…givin' charity to a muckety-muck?" Wes was confused, "Ain't that backwards?"

"I saw that kid at the distribution center in the mornin'," Thad said, "He looked like he already had a lot of money. Even tried to argue with Schuester about price. The nerve of him. Tryin' to be a newsie like us. I tell ya, he mocks us, sir!"

At this time, boys were starting to filter out of the house, heading down the stairs and out the doors. Nick quickly finished getting ready and made his own way to the exit. None of them could afford to be late to the distribution center, "Jeff's old man is outta the job." Nick explained as his friends followed him out. The morning chill hit Nick as soon as he stepped outside, and he rubbed his arms to fight the cold. The city was still relatively quiet, as the newsies were one of the first ones awake in New York.

"You two looked like you hit it off." Blaine said, "That don't happen quickly with you, Nick."

Nick gave his friend a quizzical look, "What do ya mean?"

"I mean you don't make friends easily, Nick," Blaine said, "For you to be so friendly with this Jeff kid so quickly…"

"What are you suggestin'?"

"He's suggestin' that yous gots the hots for the muckety-muck!" Wes burst loud enough for everyone around them to hear. Several boys turned to stare, but Nick scoffed at them, prompting them to go back to their own business. This wasn't anyone else's conversation. And that suggestion was completely ludicrous.

"Shut your traps." Nick growled. But instead of getting too defensive, Nick took advantage of the opportunity, "Why are ya askin' me when ya should be askin' Blainers here?" Nick threw an arm around Blaine's shoulders, "This guy here's been gettin' real close with a certain reporter from _The Sun_."

Blaine turned red at the switch in subject. David, Wes and Thad soon forgot about Nick and started whistling and taunting Blaine. "He's just a friend." Blaine defended lamely.

"What's his name again?" Wes asked, "Kirk? Kris?"

"His name's Kurt." Blaine said, "And we're done talkin' about this."

"Aw come on, Blaine." David whined, "We just playin'."

"Well I ain't laughin' anymore." Blaine said, officially ending the conversation.

Their conversation had carried on for the few blocks it took for the young newsies to get to the distribution center. The gate was open, but the windows were still closed tight. Newspapers weren't circulating just yet.

Just outside the gate, a boy was leaning against the wall. He kept himself looking busy straightening his vest, fixing his hat, and brushing off his sleeves. Nick quirked up a smile as he separated from his group and approached Jeff.

"I see you're keepin' your promise." Nick said.

Jeff looked up, smiling when he saw who it was talking to him, "I said I'd be here, didn't I? I may be going broke now, but I'm still a man of my word."

"Did your old man teach ya that?" Nick joked.

"Matter of fact, he did." Jeff said, "He taught me to always work honestly and keep my promises."

"You're in the wrong place of you plan on workin' honestly, Jeffie-boy."

"Well dad doesn't need to know about that part, does he?"

Nick laughed before giving his friend a pat on the shoulder, "Come on, Jeffie-boy. Let's go."

The distribution center was just as active as the boarding house was earlier. Newsboys crowded the area, munching on breakfast or sipping old coffee that they got from the nuns at the church across the street. A few of the younger boys ran back and forth, chasing each other, while some older boys conversed about headlines, making bets, anything worth huddling and speaking about.

Nick caught sight of Blaine standing off to the side, chatting with a tall, brown haired boy wearing dress clothing and carrying a pad of paper and a pen. It was Kurt Hummel, a news reporter from _The Sun_. Kurt had been around every day for the past two weeks, always sitting on the same wooden crate, keeping out of the way of the newsboys. After three days, Blaine finally approached the stranger, asking what his business was. Kurt said he was here for a story. And left it at that. Since then, Kurt sat there and Blaine went up to talk to him before going out to sell.

"Hey Nick!"

Nick groaned as he saw Wes, David, and Thad headed right for him, expressions gleaming with mischief. Out of the corner of his eye, Nick caught Jeff stiffening beside him. Of course, Thad was the one giving Jeff a bit of trouble yesterday.

"Don't mind them," Nick said loud enough for the three newsies to hear, "These guys are a buncha idiots."

Wes looked like Nick just slapped him, "Nicholas! I thought we were friends!"

"Come on, Wes," David said, "Nicky's got a new friend now. He's with this muckety-muck. Too good for us anymore."

Jeff turned bright red and averted his eyes. Nick smirked, "I've always been too good for you shmucks."

"So now what?" Thad accused, his tone putting Nick on edge, "You gonna become a muckety-muck, Nick? Gonna leave us for the rich life? Too good for us, too good to be a newsie anymore? Maybe you're gonna go off any find your daddy again?"

Suddenly, Nick grabbed Thad by the front of the boy's shirt. Nick felt the anger radiating throughout his body. Thad kept an expression of superiority, but Nick could feel the other boy cowering under his grip. He could knock the wits right out of Thad. Right here for everyone to see. He could wipe that look right out of his eyes, make sure Thad never said those words again. He felt people grabbing his shoulders and arms, trying to pull the two apart. But Nick had no intention of backing down. Thad was going to pay for his words.

Nick was suddenly pushed backwards, making him release Thad's shirt. He almost fell backwards, but a strong set of arms steadied him. Nick righted himself, and saw that Jeff was the one that caught him. Jeff's face was an odd mixed expression of fear and questioning.

"Hey! Is there a problem here?" It was Blaine who had broken the two up, who had pushed Nick away. Neither Nick nor Thad made any move towards each other again. Because now Blaine was involved. And you don't question Blaine. When no one answered Blaine's question, he continued, "Nick? Thad? You two got a problem?"

Nick pointed a threatening finger at Thad, "Don't you fucking say that again. _Ever_. You hear me, Thaddeus?"

Thad waved him off, turned on his heel, and disappeared among the crowd. Nick took a deep breath as his adrenaline decreased. His mind felt completely jumbled right now. What had just happened was now a blur to him. He turned to look at Jeff again.

"Sorry you had to see that, Jeff." Wes said to the new boy.

"Yeah. We was just jokin'. We don't mean it. Thad…he can take things too far…" David added.

"Don't sweat it." Jeff shook both of their hands before Wes and David cleared the scene.

Jeff put a hand on Nick's shoulder, "You alright, Nick?"

Nick looked at Jeff. Same old blonde, hazel eyed, charismatic, muckety-muck that Nick met yesterday. He nodded, "I'm fine."

* * *

_As portrayed in the Newsies movie, the newsies would live in a boarding house that sort of resembles an old-time orphanage. _

_Reviews/comments/questions are always welcome!_


	3. Carrying the Banner

_As I previously said, this story is already posted on a Warbler fanfiction site called Quoth The Warbler. There is a link to my QTW account on my profile if you're interested. I update chapters quicker there than on here, just FYI._

_Also, this is the first story/chapter where I'm introducing a couple of my OCs. It was a last minute decision (I didn't include them in the chapter that's on QTW) and they won't be too prevalent in this story. I just really wanted to include a few of them. Don't mind the OCs, they don't bite :)_

_Also if you haven't noticed, I'm incorporating several lines/lyrics from Newsies into this story. I don't own anything from Glee or Newsies._

_This story is still dedicated to Nic! And dedicated to everyone in the Broadway cast of Newsies, both new members and members who have already left!_

* * *

The bell rang and the headlines went upon the board above the windows. Still no good stories. It didn't bother Nick too much though. He and Jeff would come up with good fakes. The newsboys formed a line, as always, and began buying their stocks. These were the newspapers from _The World_: the biggest newspaper company in New York City, possibly in the country. They made the most money, had the best stories, reporters were held in the highest regard, and they had the most repeat customers. And while being a newsie for _The World_ would get a guy a lot of profit and a lot of muckety-muck customers, the power of _The World_ could be menacing at times. They boys had heard horror stories about the owner of _The World_, Sue Sylvester, though none of the newsies had ever met anyone high-up in the company. The only one they knew was Will Schuester, the man who came down and sold the papers to the newsies. He was accompanied by his assistants: two hulking boys named Karofsky and Azimio.

Nick and Jeff made it to the front of the line, "We'll take fifty." Both boys chipped in their respective share of the cost.

"Fifty papers for Nicky and Blondie here." Schue said to his assistants. Azimio glowered as he gathered up the stock.

"Make it seventy five." Blaine said, materializing next to Nick and dropping down his own payment. Blaine ignored Nick's incredulous look.

Schue raised his eyebrows, "Alright, seventy five papers for Nicky, Blondie, and Curly here."

Nick took half of the stack—Karofsky jumping at him as he did so—while Jeff took the other half. They walked back to the gate of the distribution center.

Blaine was about to keep walking, but Nick stopped him, "What the hell was that for?"

"What was what for?"

"_That_!" Nick burst, waving his free arm in the direction of the window, "Why the hell are ya buying us more papes?"

"Because I'm sellin' with you two today." Blaine replied as if it were obvious.

"We don't need your help Blaine." Nick noticed how Jeff was staying out of this conversation.

Blaine smirked, "Nick let's face it, you've only ever been able to sell 'bout fiorty five at a time…And that's on a good day."

"—Jeff and I are sellin' together—"

"Doesn't matter. You bought fifty once and didn't end up selling seven of them. Even with Jeff here, it'll still be difficult for ya. No offense to Jeff, but he's new at this."

"He's good though. He helped me sell yesterday."

"We'll sell the seventy five and split it three ways. It'll be easier that way."

"You'll end up with a profit of only twenty five papes." Nick said, "That's not even half of what ya normally sell."

"I'll live."

Nick sighed. He couldn't argue with Blaine. Even if Nick told Blaine to go away, Blaine would still follow them to the park. He was stubborn like that. Plus Blaine was just trying to look out for the new guy. "Fine." Nick said.

After Blaine gave a farewell wave to his friend Kurt, the three boys headed off towards Central Park. Blaine took ta moment on the way to introduce himself to Jeff, "I'm Blaine. Leader of the Manhattan newsies. You got a problem, ya come to me, got it? I don't bite. But I will beat up anyone who gives any of my newsies an issue. You be loyal to us, we'll be loyal to you, got it?" Jeff's head swam at Blaine's words, but nodded just the same.

The three rounded a corner and Blaine stopped in his tracks, making Nick and Jeff run into him. Nick was ready to push Blaine to keep walking, until he saw who Blaine had stopped for. Just ahead stood a man in uniform: dark blue shirt, pressed trousers, and a badge on his chest. He carried a pair of handcuffs on his belt and a baton in his hand. Jeff just stood there, wondering why Nick and Blaine's expressions mirrored each other.

"What are you doing?" Jeff asked.

The officer saw the boys and raised his baton, "You there! Freeze!"

"Running!" Blaine tugged on Nick and Jeff's shirts as he turned and took off across the street. Nick didn't hesitate to run and neither did Jeff, though Jeff didn't have an idea what was going on.

"Criminals! Stop!" The officer bellowed after them. He chased after the three young boys, "Stop right there!"

"Why…are we…running?" Jeff panted as they crossed a street right in front of a horse-drawn carriage.

"We'll explain later," Blaine said, as if he weren't even out of breath, "Just run!"

Their boots pounded against the pavement, three young boys in hot pursuit by an older—and heavier—man. He had no chance of catching them. Blaine and Nick spent years running around these streets, so both of them knew a route that would get the officer off their tail. They wove through crowds of people who yelled at them and horses whinnying in complaint. All three of them could only feel the rush of adrenaline coursing through their bodies as they ran.

The boys cut down an abandoned alley and Blaine stopped to take a breather, hearing no one after them anymore. Nick slouched against a brick wall while Jeff dropped the stack of papers and doubled over, hands resting on his knees and fighting for his breath back, "Can you…answer…my question now?" The blonde huffed.

"That was an officer from the Refuge." Blaine said.

"What's that?"

"It's a juvenile prison." Nick explained, "They arrest any kid for any reason. It's one of the worst places you could end up. And Blaine's been there."

Jeff looked up, "You have?"

Blaine nodded, "They caught me stealin' some food once but I escaped. That's why that guy chased us. They're still after me."

"For whatever reason, they have it out for us newsies," Nick said, "If ya just outrun 'em, you won't get caught."

Jeff straightened up, his breath finally caught after running, "I might be regretting my choice of being a newsie…" He joked.

Nick pulled off his hat and smacked Jeff in the shoulder with it.

* * *

They arrived at Central Park, Blaine walking ahead of Jeff and Nick. Jeff had noticed that Nick hadn't said anything since they stopped in the alleyway. Nick had seemed fine then, but appeared to sink back into a bad mood as they continued walking. Jeff hesitated, but figured it couldn't necessarily hurt him to ask…could it? "Nick…what happened back at the distribution place?"

"What do ya mean?"

"With that Thad kid…What he said…"

"He pisses me off." Nick glowered.

"I can see that," Jeff said, "But he was saying…that you used to be rich. Something about…" Jeff stopped, remembering Nick's reaction when Thad brought it up.

"'Bout my old man?" Nick deadpanned.

"…yeah. I guess."

Nick took a seat on the grass and leaned against the same boulder where he first saw Jeff yesterday. He put his hands behind his head and breathed in the calming smells of the park around him: the grass, the flowers and trees. There was a reason Nick took over this territory from a previous newsie: it was calmer, more natural. Not as overwhelming as the city around it. "Yeah. I used to have money." Nick confessed, "Well, my family had money. My old man, he was a businessman. We weren't really rich, but we had money. Then one day when I was fourteen, my dad came home sayin' he made a fortune in a stock he had. All of a sudden, we had lots of money. Felt like it was all the money in the world." Jeff sat beside him and watched Nick intently, like he was soaking in every word, "Then after a month, my old man he…he took all the money and left. Woke up and he was gone."

Jeff paused, "Where did he go?" He asked gently.

Nick shrugged, "Beats me. Ma said she thinks he went out west. He always wanted to get out of New York. But Ma and I…we were left with nothin'. We had to sell the house, get a nasty tenement instead. I had to get a job in the textile factory to get us some dough. Hours sucked and pay was shit. One day I discovered the newsies and…" Nick looked over at Jeff, "Rest is history. Haven't been home in years."

"You left your mother?"

"We talked 'bout it before I left. She'd live with her sister. I'd move into the newsie boarding house. I'm always welcome back home to her. But he was seein' how much I loved selling papes. She let me leave." He paused again, "Bein' a newsie ain't the fine life. But I wouldn't have any other life but this one."

Jeff plucked a blade of grass from the ground, "That's really…nice. Fantastic, actually. My mother and father would kill me if I ever left home like that. They're already not happy about me being a newsie. They think it's a bad influence."

Nick couldn't help but laugh at that, "It's better than being some murderer or criminal." Nick said, "My ma wasn't happy about it at first either. But sometimes ya gotta make your own decisions 'bout your life. Not let your parents do it for ya."

A comfortable silence came between them in that moment. Jeff absorbed every one of Nick's words like they were the keys to life. Jeff wanted a life like that, like Nick's. A life where he made his own decisions, where not everything revolved around how much money you had, where you learn the tricks of the trade and street smarts instead of arithmetic and vocabulary. Sure, Jeff was lucky to be privileged like that. But was it selfish of him to want to have something simpler?

Nick watched his friend as the blonde laid down next to Nick, leaning against the boulder and putting his hands behind his head. Nick didn't know what Jeff's life was like at home. But one thing Nick knew for sure was that Jeff really liked being a newsie, even if he had only been at it for two days. But a thought occurred to Nick: Jeff's dad was out of a job, which was why Jeff was a newsie now. They needed money. What would happen if Jeff's dad ever got back to work again? Would Jeff leave the newsies behind to go back to school? Just like that? Being a newsie would just be a little memory in Jeff's mind, a joke among his muckety-muck friends at his fancy school. Nick scolded himself. _You can't force Jeff to stay a newsie with you. Jeff's got a life ahead of him. _Nick had to just settle with the fact that once Jeff did leave, he would miss him.

A shadow passed over the boys, snapping both of them from their thoughts. They looked up to see Blaine towering over them. "Come on lazy shmucks." Blaine said, "No one ever made it as a good newsie by sitting around. I already sold ten papes. It's your turn now." Blaine slapped their legs with a rolled up paper, forcing them to jump up to their feet. Nick grabbed a stack of papers and started off with Jeff while Blaine took up his own spot where Jeff and Nick had just been.

"So Blaine's your leader, is he?" Jeff asked as he pulled a paper out of the stack.

"Yeah. We didn't elect him leader. It just happened. Every place has a leader of the newsies. Bronx, Queens, Staten Island, Brooklyn…now their leader is one no one messes with. Sebastian…one of the best newsies in the country. Even Blaine stays on Sebastian's good side."

"Jeez." Jeff breathed.

"Carrying the banner…ain't it a fine life?" Nick smiled

By three o clock, the three newsies only had ten papers left to sell. They came up with a game: who could come up with the most ridiculous headline and and still make the sale. Blaine ended up winning when he told an elderly man that there was a story about a scientist who morphed a dog with a horse. The three boys had a good laugh about that after the man walked off.

Finally, the papers were sold and the money was split up three ways, "Nice job today, Jeffie-boy." Blaine said, shaking Jeff's hand.

"Thanks." Jeff was smiling ear to ear.

"You'll be back tomorrow?"

"Sure, if Thad doesn't have a problem with it."

Blaine waved his hand and scoffed, "Thad's all talk. He's harmless." He said, "You better be back tomorrow. Because you and Nick make a good team."

Nick blushed. Jeff chuckled, "I'll be back. I promise."

Nick watched Jeff leave, off toward his family, the life he has outside of a newsie. That was the difference between Nick and Jeff: Nick had no other life outside this one. While Jeff had a family to go home to every night.

Nick jumped when Blaine threw an arm around his shoulders, "Jeff's a good guy."

"Yeah he is." Nick agreed.

"You two really do make a great team." Blaine said with complete sincerity in his voice.

Nick lowered his gaze, "It's nice sellin' with him."

"You like him." Blaine deadpanned.

"What?!" Nick snapped his head up and gave Blaine a dubious look, "Wha—_Blaine_! That's insane!" He stammered.

"Hey I don't judge." Blaine held up his hands in defense and started to walk in the direction of the boarding house.

Nick followed now that he regained his composure, "Of course you're sayin' that. You and Kurt get on real well, don't'cha?"

It was Blaine's turn to blush, "I think we're done here."

"We ain't done here, Blaine Anderson!" Nick yelled with the tone of a stern parent. The two boys bickered like that for the several blocks back to the boarding house.

* * *

_Please keep reviewing and commenting! I loved and greatly appreciate the reviews that I got on the last chapter_


	4. It's All About the Money

_As usual, I don't own anything from Glee or Disney's Newsies._

* * *

It took Jeff a good five minutes longer than it usually did for him to climb the three stories to his family's apartment. Exhaustion flooded his entire body. His muscles ached from all the walking and running he'd been doing for the past few days. And his throat ached from shouting out headlines.

He couldn't wait to be back at it tomorrow.

The apartment that his family owned was a three-room place that the Sterlings had bought just a few weeks ago. They couldn't afford their old house anymore since Mr. Sterling was now out of his job. And even though this new place was smaller and far less…elegant, Mrs. Sterling still insisted in keeping up their usual set of standards. The furniture was well kept, neat, and perfectly placed. Mrs. Sterling's teacup collection stood proudly on the shelf in the living room, the family's bookcase was kept dust-free, and Mr. Sterling's desk was always perfectly tidy and organized. The Sterlings always kept their living quarters as if they were expecting distinguished guests at any time.

Jeff had never given too much thought to it while growing up, but now that he was with the newsies, knew he'd get a lot of taunts about his "muckety-muck" place from them if they ever saw it. Jeff knew it was certainly a lot better than what they were used to. Maybe it was a little superfluous to live like this.

"Mom? Dad? I'm home." He called as he entered the apartment.

"Jeffrey honey," That was his mom from the living room, "Where on earth have you been?"

"I was out selling newspapers, Mom." Jeff said, "You knew that."

Mrs. Sterling put down her book as if it were made of fine china and turned to her son. Mrs. Sterling was a slim woman with dark hair and with Jeff's hazel eyes. Jeff liked to think of her as a typical housewife: she kept the place neat and tidy, cooked dinner every night, and stayed at home to raise Jeff for as long as he could remember. Jeff was pretty sure that his mother had never worked a day in her life, but lately she'd taken up a simple job at a textile factory to get the family some money, and he could tell that his mother wasn't very happy about it. "I didn't know you'd be out _this _late, sweetie…"

Jeff looked out the window. It couldn't have been that late; the sun hadn't even set yet. "I'm fine mom. Selling papers takes time." Jeff flopped down onto the couch, his energy finally draining out of him. He would've fallen asleep right there if he hadn't caught his mother pursing her lips and giving him a judgmental look. He could tell she didn't like the way he fell onto the couch or the way his clothes had dirt stains on them. Even in the lower-class apartment, his mother still wanted Jeff to act with the utmost class and respect, even for the furniture and for clothes.

"Jeffrey, my boy!" Jeff immediately sat up as his father paraded into the room. Mr. Sterling was a posh man who would bring all of his grandeur into whatever room he walked in. Everything was business to Mr. Sterling; there was never a separation of work and home to this man. Jeff never knew if his dad's posh grandeur was an act or if that's just how he was. Mr. Sterling clapped a hand onto Jeff's shoulder, making his son wince. Jeff was still sore from all of the selling he'd been doing. "You made it home, son!"

"Yes dad." Jeff said, "I'm exhausted."

"Exhausted? You were out searching for work, why are you so tired?"

"Dad, I told you. I wasn't out looking for a new job. I was out with the newsies."

Mr. Sterling gave his son a confused look, "Those street rats? You were with them?"

"Dad, I told you I was going to sell with them." Jeff had been though this with his father twice. Both times Mr. Sterling hadn't believed him. He thought his son was out doing something classy, less…dirty, as his father had put it, "And they're nice guys. They're my friends."

"Jeffrey," Mr. Sterling took a seat next to his wife and across from Jeff, "This is just a one time thing, am I right? You'll be back searching for another job soon?"

Jeff narrowed his eyes, "No…I'm going to sell again with he newsies again tomorrow. And after that. I made a commitment to them."

"Jeffrey, that's not a good job to uphold. Those…kids," every time he mentioned the newsies, Mr. Sterling had a tone of malice in his voice, "they don't have good reputation. They're delinquents who live on the streets. They're dirty, they're liars…"

"Dad!" Jeff interrupted his father, knowing he'd probably regret it later, "I'm making good money there." He pulled his pile of coins out of his pocket and placed them on the coffee table in front of him, "They're not like you think. Those guys…they look out for each other, and they're loyal, and they're smart." Jeff stopped when his father scoffed. He wasn't going to win this argument, "Sorry, but I'm tired right now and I'd like to turn in for the night. Mother, Father, goodnight." Jeff barely allowed his parents the chance to say goodnight before Jeff headed for his room. He didn't have any intention of falling asleep this early; he just didn't want to continue that conversation with his father. He knew he wasn't going to win that argument, no matter how wrong his father was.

Jeff couldn't believe what his father was saying about the newsies. Mr. Sterling was wrong. He couldn't be more wrong. That was Nick and Blaine, Wes and David that he was talking about…Mr. Sterling didn't even know them. Why should he judge them?

As Jeff pulled off his shirt, a realization came to him. He usually had a high respect for his father. And now, Jeff was questioning everything his father ever said. He never remembered disagreeing with his father like this. Mr. Sterling had been very high up in his job, was very committed to his work, and always taught Jeff the lessons to be successful: work honestly and diligently. Respect others and you will gain respect, his father would say. Jeff had lived by his father's advice. And now he was practically going against all of his father's words: he lied through his teeth in order to sell papers, he made fun of "muckety mucks" with Nick on a regular basis. And when not selling, he and Nick would spend the day being lazy around Central Park. Two days with the newsies was pulling Jeff away from his father and his beliefs.

Jeff lied down on his mattress, still shirtless and only wearing a pair of trousers, and thought about Nick's earlier words: _"Sometimes ya gotta make your own decisions 'bout your life. Not yet your parents do it for ya." _Maybe there were some things about Mr. Sterling that Jeff could disagree with. Maybe Jeff could get his father to see that he was wrong about the newsies…

* * *

"Gentlemen," Sue Sylvester threw the full-length drapes open, letting the bright morning sunshine gleam into her penthouse office of _The World_. Sue had a breathtaking view of the New York skyline. The office of her newspaper company was at the top of the building. Sue Sylvester was at the top of the world in many ways. She turned back to her associates, "bottom line: we need to sell more papers."

Figgins shifted uncomfortably. There were reasons that copies of their issues weren't selling well. There had been zero good headlines for weeks. The best they could do was keep writing about the trolley strike and pray for a good story to come along. But Sue wasn't that patient. She wanted instant gratification. She wanted to sell more papers now. "Ms. Sylvester," Figgins began, "Headlines have been down lately…"

"Don't think I don't already know that, Figs." Sue took a seat in her expensive leather chair behind her desk and reclined back, narrowing her eyes at her associates: Figgins, and Emma Pillsbury. The two cowered under her menacing glare, "My sales have been down for two weeks. I need my papers to sell. And I need them to sell fast."

"Headlines haven't been good lately, Ms. Sylvester." Emma said in a quiet voice.

"I'm well aware of that, Pillsbury." Sue sneered, "And if I can't change my headlines, we're going to have to take other drastic measures."

Figgins narrowed his eyes, "What are you proposing, Ms. Sylvester?"

Sue spun around in her chair and gazed out the windows across the city, "I refuse to believe the problem is entirely blamed on our headlines. What are those newsboys doing wrong?"

Emma gave Sue a quizzical look, "Ms. Sylvester, the newsies are doing nothing wrong. They're excellent in their work actually." Emma spoke from true experience. Although she worked as Sue Sylvester's secretary and was one of her most trusted associates, Emma frequently enjoyed taking time out of her day to visit the newsies outside the building. They were young, energetic, and very polite when Emma talked to a few of them.

Sue paused, concentrating on her thoughts as she watched the city below her. He wheels turned in her head, "Well," She said after a good minute of silence, "If their work is so great…then maybe we can use that to our advantage."

"Use the newsboys to solve our sale problem?" Figgins asked, "How do you plan on doing that?"

"What do the newsies currently pay for their papers?"

"Three cents per paper. Then they're sold to the public at a nickel."

Sue spun back around to face Figgins and Emma, "I've got the perfect idea: we raise the price that those boys pay for their papers."

Emma suppressed a gasp before Figgins spoke up, "And how will that solve our problems, Sue?" He snapped.

Sue raised a warning finger at him, "Hear me out, Figgins. We raise the price that the newsies pay for papers, which means we gain more money from them."

"But those boys barely have enough money to pay for the papers at it is!" Emma interrupted, "They won't be able to afford the price raise!"

"I'm not denying that, Emma. But if they pay more for their papers, that means they'll have to sell more papers just to equal the profit they're currently making."

"Which equals more papers sold for The World." Figgins said with a smile that irritated Emma.

"Exactly, Figgins. It's a win-win." Sue lounged back in her chair, reveling in her brilliant idea.

"Ms. Sylvester," Emma forced herself to sty calm, "Raising the price of papers will put those newsies out of work. Those boys won't be able to afford it. They volunteer to work for you, you can't mistreat them like that!"

"Emma Pillsbury," Sue leaned forward, resting her elbows on her desk, "I own the most powerful and successful newspaper company in New York City. Possibly in the country. I control the city, including those boys. I can make them do whatever I want. Which means I can make them pay a higher price for their papers."

"But…who's to say they won't just sell at a different newspaper company?"

"I've got a lot more pull in this city than you give me credit for, Pillsbury. That includes _The Journal_ and _The Sun_."

Emma was speechless. She knew Sue could be tough and ruthless, but she never knew Sue would stoop this low. Yes, sales were down, but there had to be a better solution than this…

"My decision is final." Sue stood up and walked around to the front of her desk, "Starting tomorrow morning, the newsies will pay four cents for each paper instead of three. It's just a penny more, so they'll live. Figgins, let Schuester know. Now you two get out of my sight."

Emma left the office, not even daring to show her anger in fear that Sue will snap at her. Sue didn't know the full implications of what she was doing. Sue only cared about making money.

* * *

_In reality, the prices of papers were 50 cents per 100 papers, and the price was raised to 60 cents per hundred. I changed the prices (at the risk of being historically inaccurate) just so it would be easier for me to keep track of and write about. _

_review/comment/question. Or leave a message on my tumblr: cheshireandtheknave_


	5. The Working Boys of New York

_It seems like it's been a while since I updated, and I apologize for that. I have a lot of other things going on between school, rehearsal, writing, and a new roleplay I joined. But I promise I'll make as much time for this story as possible. I have no intention of abandoning it._

_I still don't own anything from Glee or Newsies._

_And to reitorate: the roles of Schuester's asistants (known in the movie/musical as the Delancey brothers) will officially be played by Karofsky and Azimio._

* * *

Jeff had a hard time getting out of the house the next morning. His parents were bustling around the kitchen, telling him to sit and eat, trying as hard as they could to keep Jeff from going back to the newsies that day. Jeff had finally gotten so tired of it that he told his father he was going to look for a new job. That shut Mr. Sterling up long enough for Jeff to make a hasty exit from the apartment.

Jeff arrived at the distribution center later than the past few days; the gates were already open, and the newsies were already inside. Jeff went through the gates and looked up at the board above the circulation window, the one that declared the headlines for the papers every day. Something about a little fire in a factory in Harlem. The headline seemed kind of exciting. But something was different, and Jeff couldn't quite put his finger on it. The windows were open, meaning the papers should've been circulation. So why was no one buying yet? The center was quiet, only the dull roar of the crowd of young boys, and there was a tension in the air that Jeff couldn't have cut with a butcher knife. Something was wrong…

"Oi Jeffie-boy! Over here!"

Instead of buying their papers—Shuester, Karofsky, and Azimio were waiting for customers at the window—the newsies were crowded off to the side, huddling around each other. The boys allowed Jeff through until he found Nick among the center of the crowd. Jeff immediately took note of the anger and distress in his friend's eyes.

"Nick, what's going on?" Jeff looked around and saw that nearly all of the other boys had the same expressions as Nick did. They all looked confused, angry, mumbling to each other, waiting for something to happen.

"They jacked up the prices!" Nick exclaimed.

"What?!"

"Yeah, man. Four cents a pape now. We can't afford that!"

"Who raised the prices?"

"Sue Sylvester." Jeff heard Blaine mutter from Nick's other side. The leader sat on a wooden crate deep in thought as if there wasn't a crowd of teenage boys waiting for him to say something, "The owner of _The World_."

"Wh—" Jeff stammered, too speechless to form a coercive thought, "Wh…why would she do that?"

"The only thing Sylvester cares 'bout is makin' money." Wes said.

"Wait," David interrupted, "What about other papes? Like _The Sun _or _The Journal_?"

"_The Journal_ raised prices too." Kurt said, "_The Sun_ is raising prices soon, I heard."

"So what the hell are supposed to do?" a boy named Trent said, "No one can afford the new prices. We'll be even more broke than we already are! It's bad enough we gotta keep the papes we don't sell."

Everyone turned to Blaine, who still hadn't moved since Jeff arrived. They were all waiting for their leader to make a move, to give the order.

After a pause, Blaine finally spoke, "Alright listen. They ain't gonna get away with this. We ain't gonna sell today." There were groans and protests from the boys, "Hey c'mon. Let's face it, we ain't gonna afford this. And if we don't sell today, then no one sells today."

"And whadda 'bout tomorrow?" Thad said, and Jeff thought he could hear a faint sneer in his voice.

"Same tomorrow. No one sells until the prices go down." Blaine declared.

"You mean a strike?" Jeff asked.

"Yeah. A strike." Blaine stood up on the crate, "We'll go on strike until they lower the prices!"

"Blaine are you crazy?" Someone named Leo yelled.

Kurt spoke up, "Blaine, you can't technically go on strike! You don't have a union!"

"But if we all group together, then we become a union, right?"

"It doesn't work like that Blaine!" Kurt replied, but he was ignored.

Blaine addressed the newsies again, "Are you gonna sit here and take this?" The boys all quieted down to listen to their leader, "Sylvester thinks we're just a buncha rats she can ignore. She thinks we can't make a difference. But sooner or later she's gotta respect the rights of the working newsies of New York!"

Blaine received cheers and claps from his boys. The mood of the group was suddenly elating, the boys suddenly joining in on Blaine's words, awaiting this new adventure.

"Keep talkin' Blaine," Leo spoke up again, "Tell us what we're gonna do."

"Sylvester thinks we're nothing…are we nothing?!" Blaine roared.

"No!" The boys yelled in reply.

"When the bell rings tomorrow, will we hear it?!"

"No!"

"Even if we ain't got hats or badges, we can be a union if we say so! And the World will know!" Blaine jumped down from the crate and stormed though the crowd of boys. The newsies immediately followed their leader right out of the distribution center and into the street.

Jeff could feel the energy bubbling among the boys around him. He stole a smiling glance at Nick, who returned it immediately. And Jeff swore he'd never seen Nick smile like that before. He'd seen Nick smile at jokes, he'd seen Nick smile when he sold to suckers. But this smile, it lit up Nick's face and gave the boy a whole new appearance. Jeff didn't think Nick could be more excited about this strike. And Jeff couldn't help but admit that he liked seeing Nick smile like that.

Once out of the gates, a little kid who could be no more than nine chanted, "Strike! Strike!" and eventually everyone was chanting along. A chorus of young boys hollering, "Strike! Strike! Strike!"

_This is actually gonna happen, _Blaine thought as he saw his crowd of ragtag newsies follow him out of the distribution center and into the street. _We're going on strike_.

"_And the World will know! And the Journal too!"_

Because of al the noise the boys were making, Schuester closed up his windows early. The last thing he, Karofsky and Azimio wanted to hear was their rukus about a strike.

Once the chanting died down and they got to the other side of the street across from The World, Blaine gathered in his boys again, regaining their attention, "Listen up, boys. This strike can't be just us. We gotta get the word out. All over New York. Tell the other gangs to join this strike. If we don't get them in, then we ain't go no chance at this."

"And will they listen to us?" Jeff asked.

"If they don't then we'll soak 'em!" Nick exclaimed.

Blaine scoffed, "Atta boy, Nick. Alright. Trent, you take Harlem. Beatz and Leo, you get the Bronx."

David shot his hand in the air, "Wes and I got Queens."

"Atta boy David. Take Andy with ya." David took the little kid's hand and they left the scene with Wes. Other boys started to offer places to spread the word and they began scattering to their respective places under Blaine's orders. West Side, East Side, Staten and Coney Islands, the likes. Finally, only once place was left, "And who wants Brooklyn?"

Silence.

"Aw c'mon. Smythe's territory." Blaine said. He still got a hesitant response, "Okay fine. Nick, you me and Jeffie-boy will head over to Brooklyn. The rest of ya get your sorry asses outta here and start spreadin' the word! Newsies are on strike!"

* * *

"So what's the deal with Brooklyn?"

"Ya ever been here?"

"Once. I was little."

"Well, it ain't Brooklyn itself that's got everyone hidin' their faces. It's the leader of the Brooklyn newsies. Sebastian Smythe."

Nick kicked a rock in front of him and it clattered against the pavement. Jeff walked beside his friend with his hands resting in his pockets. Blaine walked several paces ahead of the two, walking with purpose, never faltering on which direction to go. They'd just crossed the bridge into Brooklyn, and with every block they passed, the boys' anticipation grew.

The Brooklyn newsies congregated in a run down area next to the river, what used to be popular fishing and boating docks. But it had since been abandoned, so it was the perfect place for the Brooklyn newsies. The three visitors had already passed by a couple newsies taking a swim and jumping off the docks. The guys were confused as to their presence, but no one gave the three boys any trouble. Because this was a matter for Sebastian to handle.

Blaine found Sebastian outside an old warehouse, sitting on a barrel and fiddling with something in his hands that Jeff couldn't see. The boy was looking down, his hat covering his face. Next to the Brooklyn leader sat a shorter boy with dark hair. Jeff hung back behind Nick and Blaine and prayed that both of them would do all the talking.

The dark haired boy looked up as the three boys approached, "Well well well, if it ain't Blainers and Little Nicky." He teased.

Sebastian finally looked up. He had a face that reminded Jeff of a snarky meerkat. Jeff felt like Sebastian's eyes could cut through him and his words could tear him apart in a second. If there was a legitimate reason that no one messed with Sebastian Smythe, Jeff found it even before Sebastian spoke.

"Blaine Anderson, gracing Brooklyn with his presence," Sebastian cracked a sinister grin, "To what do we owe the pleasure?"

"I see you still got the same old accomplice by your side, eh Smythe?" Blaine said, gesturing with a jerk of his head to the dark haired boy.

The dark haired boy straightened his posture, "Got a problem with me?" He sneered.

"Cass, I got this." Sebastian said to the boy, who backed up at his leader's look. Sebastian turned back to Blaine, "I can say the same for you, Anderson." Sebastian gestured to Nick, "And yet you still brought a new guy with ya."

Jeff averted his eyes as Nick spoke up, "Jeff's my selling partner. A new recruit."

"Ah, well we'll see how long he'll last in the newsie life." Sebastian said, sizing Jeff up.

The dark haired boy, Cass, spoke up, "Lemme guess…is he a muckety-muck who needs some money?" That comment made Jeff's face turn bright red.

"That's pretty brave comin' from a guy like you, Cassian." Nick glowered. No one was going to insult Jeff on Nick's terms.

"Did you sell papes today, Smythe?" Blaine asked as he crossed his arms, averting the subject before a fight broke out. Any sort of altercation with the Brooklyn boys was the last thing Blaine needed.

"Cutting to the chase aren't'cha Anderson?" Sebastian stood up. He was a good several inches taller than Blaine and Nick, "Yeah we sold today. Not as much as usual because of the price hike. Why are ya askin'? Come to seek out advice?"

"Sebastian," It was the first time since they arrived that Blaine had addressed Sebastian by his first name, "I realize we have our differences, but right now I'm proposin' a truce."

"On what grounds?"

"On the grounds that I can't think of a single newsie who will be able to afford the new prices."

"And…?"

"And the Manhattan newsies are going on strike." Sebastian scoffed before Blaine could continue, "But we can't do it without everyone else in New York joining us. We need to go at this all or nothin'"

Sebastian considered this for a moment. He still had an item in his hands, and he held it up so Jeff could see that it was a slingshot. Sebastian aimed and fired, shattering a glass bottle that sat on a rafter above Jeff's head. Jeff ducked as shards of glass rained over his shoulders. Sebastian had a very precise aim with that slingshot.

"You think that a strike will work? That Sylvester will listen to a buncha rats like us? All she cares 'bout is makin' money." Sebastian said, not caring that Jeff was brushing shards of glass off his shirt.

"Sylvester may own The World, but she don't own us." Blaine said, "We gots a lot more influence in this city than she gives us credit for."

"And how do I know your guys ain't gonna run at the first sight of the bulls?"

"We're in this till the end. All of us." Blaine said. Nick nodded in agreement.

Sebastian loaded his slingshot again, "See here's the thing, Anderson. I can't just jump right into this. I gotta think about my guys first."

Blaine nodded, "I understand that, but is that a no?"

"Not quite…" Sebastian said, "I'll have to think 'bout it first."

"Fine. Decide quickly. We don't got all the time in the world."

Sebastian scoffed, and that was Blaine's cue that it was time to leave.

* * *

As the boys crossed back over the bridge back into Manhattan and walked a few blocks, the sun was setting over the skyscrapers and the sky was turning a bright shade of orange. The summer air was getting chilly for the night as the city was settling in for the evening.

"Shit, it's getting late isn't it?" Jeff said, noticing that it was getting dark.

"Where do you live, Jeffie-boy?" Blaine asked.

"Upper East Side."

"Damn!" Nick exclaimed, "You'll never make it home before dark!"

"I'll be fine."

"No you won't." Blaine said with authority, "The newsie house is closer. You can stay with us for the night."

"I…I can't do that!" Jeff stammered.

"Why not?"

"My dad—my parents are expecting me. They won't be happy if I don't get home."

"Jeffie, you'll be fine." Nick said, placing a hand on his friend's shoulder, "You're a big boy. And it's just one night."

Jeff sighed. He found himself unwilling to argue against Nick. And he had to admit he wasn't fond of walking all the way through Manhattan to get home. And he was a newsie now, so he also couldn't defy Blaine. "Well…if it's just one night…"

"Atta boy, Jeffie."

Jeff fell into step beside Nick as Blaine walked ahead of them—again. A comfortable silence fell over the boys, though Blaine didn't seem like he wanted to talk. He just wanted to get home.

"Hey Jeff…" Nick said after a few minutes.

"Yeah?"

Nick threw an arm around Jeff's shoulders and pulled the blonde close, "We're on strike." He said with a smile. Like the words were the most exciting things to ever pass his lips.

Jeff smiled as well, "Yeah we are."

They continued walking, and Nick didn't take his arm off Jeff's shoulders. They walked side by side, brushing against each other. It felt almost natural. Like he and Nick walked like that all the time. It felt…nice. He liked leaning against him as they walked.

They were comfortable around each other like that. They liked each other. These kinds of actions could be normal between them. They were friends.

Very good friends.

* * *

_Sorry if this chapter is cheesy in any way shape or form. It was kind of hard writing it without making the boys actually sing "The World Will Know"_


	6. On Top of the World

_Hello again! I don't really know what to put in this author's note other than an apology for the delay(s) in updating. _

_Enjoy this chapter!_

* * *

The beds in the newsie boarding house weren't comfortable by any means. Jeff was waking up to a lumpy pillow under his head, a hard and stiff mattress, and a thin, itchy sheet over him. The place also went through temperature swings during the night—it would be freezing for about an hour, then swelteringly hot for the next, and so on.

And yet Jeff felt really comfortable when he woke up.

The sun had already risen, blinding him for a moment as he opened his eyes. It took him a second to realize his nose and mouth were buried in something warm and soft. As his eyes adjusted to the light, he looked down, and his heart stopped.

When they'd gotten to the boarding house that night, there weren't any available beds for Jeff to sleep in. So Nick had offered for them to share a bed. They slept back-to-back, not wanting to face each other. But Jeff had just woken up, lying on his back, with his face resting on the top of Nick's head. Nick, meanwhile, was sleeping on his side, his head resting on Jeff's shoulder and an arm draped over Jeff's stomach. The brunette was still asleep, eyes darting underneath his eyelids. And this was also the moment that Jeff realized his arm was around Nick's shoulder.

Jeff was shocked to say the least. How was this happening? Falling asleep in Nick's bed should've meant nothing to them. It hadn't meant anything last night. And now…shit just got serious. What was he supposed to do now? He and Nick were good friends, what was this going to do about that? Jeff was sure that two guys weren't supposed to sleep like this. He shifted a bit, praying that Nick wouldn't wake up.

It didn't work.

Nick was jostled awake and he knew something was different immediately. In the years he'd lived here, he'd never had as good of a night's sleep as he just did. He was well rested and wasn't dreading the fact that he was waking up. His entire body felt comfortably warm, which was opposite from what he usually woke up to.

He fluttered his eyes open and lifted his head. His eyesight cleared to see a blonde head of hair looking at him. It was Jeff. Right, Jeff had slept here during the night.

And then Nick registered the expression painted over Jeff's face: shock, fear, surprise, speechlessness…It only took a second later for Nick to catch on. How Nick was positioned, curled into Jeff's side, arm around his torso…

"Oh shit." Nick breathed. He quickly sat up and hung his legs over the side of the bunk.

"Uh…yeah…" Jeff sat up as well, rubbing the back of his neck and he didn't look Nick directly in the eye.

"Sorry about that."

"It's alright."

"I…" Nick huffed in exasperation, "I didn't mean to do that."

"Both of us were asleep. We couldn't help it." Jeff said.

Nick hesitated. He didn't like having to explain himself. Because in all honesty, Nick liked sleeping like that. He had the best night's sleep he'd had in years.

Jeff contorted his mouth, trying to think of anything to say next. Jeff paused, then said, "Nick, it's fine. I…liked it actually."

The brunette looked at Jeff with a puzzled look, "Really?"

Jeff shrugged, "I didn't mind it. I slept well."

Nick diverted his eyes to the floor, praying that his face wouldn't turn bright red, "I…I kinda liked it too."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

Without knowing what he was doing, Jeff reached his hand over and placed it over Nick's. The brunette's hand was warm, and Jeff gripped it a little tighter. A silence passed over them, both of them watching their now entwined hands. Guy friends usually weren't supposed to hold hands or sleep together like they just did. Yet neither of the two were willing to stop what was between them.

"Oi! Sleepyheads!" Nick and Jeff snapped their heads up and pulled their hands away—a pang of regret hitting both of them as they did so. It was Blaine, already dressed and ready to go for the day, "Nice of you two schmucks to wake up. Now if ya don't mind, we got a strike to go through with."

The two boys hopped down from the top bunk and started getting ready. They had been the last two to wake up, the other boys already awake, some of them even ready to go. It seemed just like any other morning in the boarding house, except the boys appeared to be more awake today than any other morning.

"Blaine why the hell are we still wakin' up early?" Wes asked.

"Yeah we're on strike, what's the point?" David added.

"Because we gotta be at the World to make sure no one else sells. Make sure Sylvester knows we ain't selling. Demonstrations and all that."

Something didn't feel right to Nick though. He looked around the boarding house and turned to his leader, "Hey Blaine, where the hell is Thad?"

"I don't know. I haven't seen him." Blaine replied after glancing around the room. Thad was nowhere to be found, "Why do ya ask?"

"He seemed pissed yesterday. And I can't hear his usual complaining this mornin'…"

"BLAINE!"

The yell silenced the entire house. It was followed by a crash, some rapid footsteps, and a very breathless boy finally stumbling up the stairs. His face was bright red from exhaustion, dirty blonde hair was all directions as his hat hell off his head, and the kid could barely stand. He leaned against the wall to prevent himself from falling over.

"Blaine…"He huffed, "You…need to…come…quickly." The boy winced in pain.

"Griffin," Blaine said, "What the hell's the matter with you? Catch your breath and calm down kid."

Griffin shook his head, "I just…ran here from The World…"

"You _what_?" Nick burst, "That's ten blocks!"

"I had to!" Griffin exclaimed, "It's Thad. He's sellin' papes today!"

Nick's eyes widened and Blaine cursed. Loudly. "Son of a bitch. When did he get there?"

"He and Luca and a few others left really early."

"Fuckin' scabs." Blaine was fuming, "Come on boys! We gotta get to The World!"

* * *

The sun had risen to start the summer morning, the hot air trapped beneath New York's skyscrapers. The usual morning activity of the city was in full swing. Except for one thing: the newsies weren't heard on their usual street corners.

Blaine led the pack of boys the ten blocks from the boarding house to The World, none of them caring that pedestrians yelled at them for not being considerate as they ran past. Blaine barely even stopped for carriages to pass in the streets—which almost led to Jeff getting run over by a horse.

Luckily, the newsies arrived at The World before any of the scabs had started selling. They stopped outside the gates, and Blaine immediately noticed Thad at the start of the line, buying his usual stock of papes with a few more boys following him. _What a damn scab_, Blaine thought. The newsies had to be in this together. If Thad was gonna keep selling even during the strike, then winning this thing would be a lot more difficult.

A boy named Luca was the first one out of the distribution center. A usually quiet boy, he started out with a bad reputation when he first joined the ranks. Turns out he'd spent six agonizing months in the Refuge for a crime he never committed. Luca was a nice guy, sold a decent amount of papes. Why the fuck was he pulling this kind of crap?

Nick was shorter than Luca, but he stepped in front of him anyway, blocking the boy's path. Luca stopped and didn't say anything. His face instantly read confusion.

"Why the hell are ya doing this, Luca?"

Luca shrugged noncommittally, "Thad said he was going…"

"And you listenin' to some rat like Thad?"

"I didn't think you guys was serious about this thing."

"Well we are." Blaine spoke up, "Luca, Sue thinks we is nothin'. All of us deserve to be treated like people. Not just some scum on the bottom of Sylvester's shoe." Luca paused, unsure of what to do next, "If you don't join us, we could all be broke in a month. Back to stealin' and doing more shit that'll put us right back in the Refuge. With this strike, we got a chance to _live_."

When Blaine mentioned the Refuge, something changed in Luca's eyes, the memories obviously haunting the older boy. There was a pause before Luca pulled his stock of papers out from under his arm and threw them down at his feet, "I'm with ya, Blaine."

A cheer erupted and Luca almost fell over with all the slaps on the back he was getting.

"Such a shame," It was Thad with a stock of fifty papers resting on his shoulder, "another boy to join the lost cause."

Blaine glared at Thad, "You fuckin' scab. Why the hell are ya still sellin'?"

Thad scoffed, "Ain't it obvious? Newsies like us can't win somethin' like that. We don't got the same pull as Sylvester does. She's got more power in this city than we do."

"We got a lotta power in this city Thad. More than anyone else knows."

"Yeah right. This strike is a buncha crap. Even Smythe didn't wanna join."

"He didn't say he wasn't joinin'…"

"Oh who are you foolin' Blaine?" Thad snapped, "If you ain't gonna give up this stupid strike of yours, ya might as well let a _real_ workin' boy of New York go about his job." Thad shoved past Blaine and didn't look back. The newsies watched him go, and watched as the last few scabs trailed after.

The youngest newsie, Andy, stepped forward, "Damn scabs!" He yelled after them.

The distribution center was empty, save for the carts that usually distributed massive stocks of papers to other places around the city, more distribution centers. The wagons were being filled up and prepped to leave. Schuester was still at his window, appearing to be slightly confused at the decrease in his sales to the newsies. But Karofsky and Azimio looked like they couldn't have cared less. The World was going about its normal business. Like nothing was different.

"Hey Blaine, Kurt's here." Griffin tapped Blaine on the shoulder when he saw the reporter approaching them.

Blaine didn't give the reporter his usual friendly greeting, "Still lookin' for a story, Hummel?"

"Actually no." Kurt replied, not falling for Blaine's snide remark, "I think I found one right here."

Blaine smirked, "Yeah right. It ain't workin' so far. This whole strike thing."

"That's because you never took your demands to Sylvester."

"Pardon?"

"Sue doesn't know you are striking. Go to her, tell her what your demands are, then you might see more progress."

Blaine considered that for a moment, the wheels turning in his head, "Alright." He said after a few seconds, "I can do that."

"You're actually gonna go up to Sylvester's office and demand our rights?" Trent spoke up, incredulous to what Blaine was going to do.

"What do I got to lose?"

"Our rights." Trent deadpanned.

"Not to mention your dignity." Griffin offered.

"You could lose your head." Nick said.

"Or an eye." Leo added.

"Alright, alright." Blaine stopped them, "Thank you for all the lovin' support."

"You're welcome boss!" Griffin hollered over the crowd of boys.

"But I gotta do this." He took a deep breath, "See y'all on the other side!" Before any of the boys could say anything further, Blaine jogged into the distribution center and plowed his way through the front doors of the building.

There was a pause among the newsies. Until Jeff broke the silence, "What did he mean by 'the other side?'"

Nick shrugged, "Hell if we know."

Minutes ticked by with the boys anxiously waiting on the block outside The World. Everyone was on edge as they waited for Blaine to return.

"This is insane." Kurt muttered.

"We're newsies," Nick said, "Everythin' we do is insane."

"This is like David versus Goliath." Jeff muttered.

"Do you really think Sylvester is going to listen to Blaine?" Kurt asked, tapping his pen against his notebook anxiously

A small pause, then, "She has to." Jeff said.

The doors of the World suddenly burst open, and Blaine was stumbling back, with two employees pushing him out. Nick and Griffin were right there to catch Blaine before their leader fell.

Blaine straightened himself up, "And if Sylvester has a problem, you tell her to find me! You got that!" He shouted to the workers, who ignored Blaine and slammed the doors behind them.

Blaine huffed, "I think they got it."

"Did ya see Sylvester?" Nick asked.

Blaine shook his head, "I barely got down the hall."

"'Kay so what now?"

Blaine paused, gathering his thoughts, "Just…clear out. We ain't getting' nothin' done just sittin' around here. C'mon, go!"

No one questioned Blaine's order. The newsies dispersed in their separate groups, heading in different directions. Nick didn't hesitate to take Jeff by the hand and pull him away, from the crowd. They headed off in the same direction that Thad and the scabs had gone earlier.

Blaine was left alone in front of the World. He stared up at the windows at the top of the building, knowing that Sylvester herself was up there. Most powerful woman in the city. On top of the World. And Blaine was still down on the streets…

"Having second thoughts?"

Blaine hadn't noticed that Kurt was still here. The newsie leader scoffed, "Never. I ain't no quitter."

Kurt half-smiled, "That's good to know. Because your boys are in this for the long haul. Following their leader until the end."

"That's how we newsboys work."

"You boys will make one hell of a story."

Blaine stared at the reporter with narrowed eyes, "Is that the reason you're stickin' around? Why are ya still here?"

Kurt matched Blaine's stare, "Because I know a good story when I see one."

"You think we're makin' a story?" Blaine smirked, "We ain't even makin' any money."

"Will you stop being so negative?" Kurt snapped, giving Blaine a small shove, "Do you not believe in your newsies?"

"Of course I do—"

"Well then start acting like it." Kurt said, "You can conquer the World. Instead of hawking headlines, you'll be making them."

Blaine felt a smile creep up on his face, "And that's what you're here for? You gonna break the story, Hummel?"

"Once a story breaks, there's no stopping it from there."

Blaine threw an arm around Kurt and started walking, "Sounds like a plan."

"_Now they're gonna see what stop the presses really means."_

* * *

_Reviews are appreciated! Let me know if you like it!  
_


	7. The Deadlines in Between

_So as pointed out in a couple reviews, yes this story is based off the movie/musical Newsies and there are characters in this that take the place of characters in Newsies (i.e. Blaine is Jack Kelly, Sue is Pulitzer, Sebastian is Spot Conlon, etc.) but there are a few characters (namely Nick and Jeff) who don't take the place of characters in the movie/musical._

_Hope you're still enjoying this!_

* * *

Nick and Jeff's hearts both pounded. Their faces were hot with exertion as they sprinted across another block, barely missing a step to dodge a person or a carriage. Nick was faster than Jeff, but they stayed close together with Nick tightly grasping Jeff's hand and pulling the blonde after him. Jeff was more out-of-breath than Nick was, because Jeff was laughing a lot harder.

The baker had chased them for two blocks, shouting at them in Italian. They booked it from the bakery as soon as the baker noticed them. They didn't need to run the distance that they ended up running, but after the fiasco in the bakery and their adrenaline pumping from their day, they didn't stop until they reached the fire escape to Jeff's building about six blocks away.

The boys stopped at the foot of the fire escape, huffing and panting to regain their composure. Jeff had to hold himself up on the railing, "Oh man…" The blonde huffed, "That was…"

"Crazy?" Nick offered, slouching against the brick of the building.

"Stupid." Jeff laughed. He stood up a bit straighter, "I told you we shouldn't have gone in there."

"We got away, didn't we?" Nick grinned.

"Yeah, and my family's never gonna be able to buy from that place again." Jeff said, still panting, "So I might as well enjoy while I can." He reached into his shirt and pulled out two small loaves of bread with cheese baked on top.

"Son of a bitch." Nick breathed, "You actually got 'em."

"Yeah I did," Jeff held one of the loaves out to Nick, "You didn't think I would've grabbed 'em, did ya?"

"Damn, Jeffie-boy," Nick took the bread and bit into it. It was still warm and it tasted delicious. He hadn't had food this luxurious in a long time, "I gotta hand it to ya, Jeff. That's pretty crazy."

"I knew you was a bad influence." Jeff joked as he sank his teeth into the warm bread. He was ravenous since he and Nick hadn't eaten anything since this morning. They'd spent the entire day wandering around New York city, Nick showing Jeff a few tricks of the trade, and they even ran into and heckled a couple scabs for a bit.

After a few moments of silence while the boys ate a few more bites, Jeff looked up at his building, "Damn…I forgot I haven't been home in two days."

"What're your parents gonna say?"

Jeff shrugged, "Beats me." He started climbing the fire escape up to his floor, "They're gonna be pissed, I know that." Nick stifled a laugh behind him. Jeff turned to look at his friend, "What was that for?"

"I don't think you know what you're in for, Jeffie-boy," Nick said with a laugh, "I haven't met your parents, and I even know that they're gonna be more than pissed. Look at yourself!"

"What 'bout me?"

"Have ya seen yourself today?" Nick said incredulously. He climbed a few stairs to be at eye level with Jeff, "You're wearin' the same clothes you wore yesterday and they're dirty as all hell, you stole bread from the baker down the street, and have you noticed how you're talkin' lately?"

"How am I talkin'?" Jeff asked before he realized what Nick meant, "Oh…"

"Yeah."

"I didn't even notice."

"You've been talkin' more an' more like me all day." Nick said, "And the thought of your parents didn't come to ya at all today? Damn Jeffie-boy, you're turnin' into a newsie real fast."

Nick continued up the fire escape up to Jeff's floor, with the blonde right behind him. They couldn't see inside Jeff's place because curtain was pulled tight over the open window, blowing gently in the breeze. Nick finished off his loaf of bread and turned back to his friend, "So this is your home-sweet-home, ain't it?"

"Yeah." Jeff said, "The muckety-muck life."

"Could be worse." Nick shrugged.

Jeff looked down to the bread in his hand, suddenly not that hungry. He turned and leaned against the railing, gazing out over the buildings around him, "…I don't really like this place."

"What, you're last house was better?"

"No…I liked staying at the newsie house."

That made Nick stop. He looked over at Jeff, seeing the blonde facing away from him. He leaned against the railing next to Jeff and gave him a playful nudge with his shoulder, "You liked stayin' there? In a cramped, run down building with a bunch of other boys yellin' at ya. A place where you can never get a decent night's sleep or a decent meal?" Nick was making the boarding house sound a lot worse than it actually was. He loved being a newsie, but Jeff had to see that this muckety muck apartment was better than that boarding house any day.

"I liked it. It was simple." Jeff said, "You guys are a family there. You can say and do whatever you want. You look out for each other." Jeff gestured to his window, "Here I get judged by my own parents. I got my old man yelling at me to get a different job, my mom giving me looks every time I get a speck of dirt on myself." Jeff paused, drumming his fingers against the railing. He'd never had a good look at his muckety-muck life until he got to see it from this new perspective. And he kind of hated it, "They say folks is dying to get here. Me? I'm dying to get away."

Nick didn't say anything. He just let Jeff talk, the blonde trailing off, getting lost in his thoughts. Nick threw an arm around his friend's shoulder, pulling him in close, "Thing'll be easier soon, Jeffie-boy."

"How do you know?"

"Would I let'cha down? No way."

Jeff turned to face Nick, seeing that the brunette was giving him a small smile. One that read 'I'm here for you.' Jeff returned the expression instinctively. "Thanks Nick." Jeff smiled back sincerely. There was a small moment of comfortable silence between them, the two boys just watching each other, their faces very close, smiling…

"Jeffrey!"

The two newsies jumped, Jeff immediately spinning to face Mr. Sterling at his window. Nick dropped his arm from Jeff's shoulders, turning to properly face Jeff's father for the first time. Out of courteous habit, he also pulled off his hat. Jeff had told Nick about his father, but Nick hadn't really expected this. Mr. Sterling had a calm, composed expression, but his eyes revealed anger. Nick caught a glare in his direction from him too. That's right, Mr. Sterling didn't like newsboys.

"Father…" Jeff breathed, "…hi." Nick suppressed a sigh. He hadn't been home in two days, his father was fuming, and that's all he could say?

"Hello Jeffrey," Mr. Sterling said with a scary-calm tone. It sent a chill down Nick's spine, "Where have you been?"

"I've been with the newsies." Jeff said.

"For _two days_?"

"Yeah."

Nick caught Mr. Sterling clench his fists, as if he was trying to control his rage at his son, "And who is this?"

"This is Nick." Jeff introduced, "Nick Duval." Nick gave a small wave to Mr. Sterling.

"And he's one of your newsrat friends?" Mr. Sterling asked as if Nick wasn't standing right there.

Jeff clenched his teeth, "He's one of my newsie friends. He taught me how to sell."

"Charming…Well, Jeffrey, your mother and I have been worried about you. Would you please come inside so we can talk?"

Nick felt Jeff stiffen up beside him. Wow, his parents were actually scaring the wits out of him. Jeff looked like he was just trying to keep himself standing upright. Nick hated seeing Jeff like this. Jeff didn't deserve to be treated like this by his own parents. But what was Nick supposed to do?

Jeff took a step forward to go inside his apartment. Nick made a split second decision and reached out for his friend, grabbing Jeff by the wrist. Jeff's heart stopped for a second, and he couldn't tell if it was because Nick grabbing his wrist had surprised him or for some other reason. He turned and Nick gave him a reassuring glance, one that said 'I'm here for ya, Jeff.' Nick held Jeff's gaze for a moment, "See ya tomorrow?" He said.

Jeff let out a breath he didn't know he was holding. "Yeah, Nick. See ya tomorrow."

Nick let go of Jeff's arm after a few lingering seconds and allowed the blonde to go into his house. He waited for a few seconds before finally descending the fire escape.

So that's what Jeff called his family. His father and mother. His home life. Mr. Sterling gave Nick the impression that he didn't care about Jeff, that he only cared about his business and the reputation he had. And if Jeff's stories were any indication, his mother wasn't too different from that.

Nick finally reached the bottom of the fire escape. He shoved his hands in his pockets and headed in the direction of the newsie house.

Jeff wanted something simpler. He's dying to get away from there, as he'd said. Nick kicked a rock on the sidewalk. He's always thought that people wanted to have a fancy muckety-muck life. Everyone wanted to have money and not have to scrap for extra change and food. To be treated with respect. But Nick, even if only for a moment, had just seen what Jeff's home life was like. And it didn't look good. Maybe the rich life wasn't as great as he thought. If Jeff was that miserable…

Sometimes—Nick would never admit this to the guys—he missed his rich life. He missed good food, a decent education, and his family. He loved being a newsie, but sometimes the thought of having money would be easier. He wouldn't worry so much about whether he'd have enough money to see tomorrow.

Something simpler. Was the muckety-muck life simpler? Or was being a newsie simpler? Being a newsie was easy for him after all these years. He knew how to live this life, how to work the streets. He didn't care about what people thought of him or what he looked like. He just sold his papes and made enough money to get by.

But his mother was still out there, living with her sister. They had money. They lived a good life. What if Nick went back to her? Back to being a muckety-muck? At least with that life, he wouldn't have to worry about having a good night's sleep or about having enough food. He'd have to money for that. And yet, the muckety-muck life was the exact thing he'd been taught to mock for the last few years. The rich life packed itself up and moved out west with his father, never heard from again.

Nick loved being a newsie. And he liked hanging out with Jeff. But Jeff wasn't going to be a newsie forever. And maybe Nick did need a change in his life, so he didn't feel like he was stuck on the streets with no future. If he went back to his mother, he'd have the chance at a good life. Jeff had a rich life. Maybe when Jeff left the newsies, Nick could do the same. Go find his mother again. Maybe he could give up his newsie life, go back to his mom. That way he had a chance at spending more of his time with Jeff.

Because Nick liked Jeff. He liked spending all day with him goofing off and talking and everything. He liked spending time with the blonde and being close with him. Jeff made Nick smile every day and had made these past few days with each other some of the best in Nick's life. Nick had to admit, if Jeff ever left the newsies, Nick couldn't imagine selling without him. Not after these past few days. Nick sighed as he thought over what Wes and David were teasing him about the other day: _"You gots the hots for the muckety-muck!" _They couldn't be right. Nick couldn't like Jeff like that. They were just teasing...

Nick mulled over these thoughts until he got back to the newsie house. This was his home. Was this really what he wanted to do for the next few years? Being stuck as a newsie? Which one was better: newsie without Jeff or muckety-muck with Jeff.

* * *

Mr. Sterling led his son into the living room. Mrs. Sterling was waiting there on the couch, lips pursed into her usual judgmental expression. She made that face all the time, but only now was Jeff realizing what it actually meant.

"Jeffrey, we need to—wait, where in God's name did you get that bread?" Mr. Sterling questioned his son sternly.

Jeff looked down and realized that half of the loaf of bread was still in his hand uneaten, "I um…got it from the baker down the block."

"And where did you get the money for it?"

"Um…I didn't have any…"

"You stole from the baker?" Mrs. Sterling burst.

Jeff balked, "I didn't say that!"

Mr. Sterling brought his hand up and slapped Jeff clean across the cheek. Jeff's face was smacked to the side with a loud crack. His cheek stung, and he could feel it turning red. He expected there to be silence, disbelief at what his father just did. Because Jeff had never been hit by either of his parents before. But almost as soon as his father was done slapping his son, he kept going, "How dare you? We raised you better than that! You ungrateful little…" Mr. Sterling huffed, "You're not some streetrat like your so-called friends. You have a name to uphold. You have more_ dignity_ than them." He, again, mentioned the newsies with poison and malice in his tone.

Jeff slowly looked up at his father, afraid that a sudden movement would prompt his father to strike him again. His father's eyes were glaring. Jeff's eyes remained wide, jaw dropped, "D-Dad…" He stammered, "I…"

"I heard about what the newsboys did yesterday," Mr. Sterling continued, "They went on strike didn't they? Thought they could be all tough, high and mighty and go up against The World. Well guess what Jeff; it's not going to work. Your newsboys will end up dead before they win that damn strike."

Jeff stared at his father. "Don't say that about 'em. They got more pull in this city than people give 'em credit for. Than people give _us_ credit for!"

"Shut up." Mr. Sterling snapped, "You are not one of them. You won't be spending any more time with them. And you will _stop_ talking like them right now."

Jeff hadn't noticed that he was talking differently again, "You're not going to stop me." Jeff narrowed his eyes at his father.

Mr. Sterling smirked, "Maybe not for now. But eventually, yes."

The words sent chill down Jeff's spine. He gulped, "What do you mean?"

"Word has it that there's something better west. Better jobs, easier life…in a few weeks, I'm packing up the family and we're heading to a town out west known as Santa Fe."

Jeff froze, giving Mr. Sterling an incredulous look, "You ain't serious." He said.

Mr. Sterling gave Jeff a back handed smack on the same cheek. It wasn't as hard as the first slap, "Don't talk like that. And yes, Jeffrey, I am serious. We'll be leaving in a few weeks."

Jeff stood still, partially because he didn't want his dad to hit him again and partially because he couldn't even wrap his head around what Mr. Sterling was saying, "We're leaving New York? Just because I'm a newsie?"

"Not because of that, Jeffrey," Mr. Sterling said, "Because we could have a better life out there. We can't be stuck in this city forever. But as for you not being a newsie anymore, well that's a nice perk."

Mr. Sterling was serious. They'd be leaving New York. Going out to Santa Fe. Getting out of this city. Jeff would be leaving the place he'd known all his life. He wouldn't be a newsie anymore. He'd be leaving Nick, never to see him again.

"Have I made myself clear, Jeffrey?" Jeff nodded slowly. "Now go to bed. You haven't been here in two days. And since you stole from the baker, I assume you're too full to eat dinner. Goodnight." There was no emotion other than stern-ness in Mr. Sterling's voice.

Jeff didn't hesitate. He ducked past his father, catching another judgmental glare from his mother as he did so, and closed the door to his room behind him. He sat on his bed, running his hands over his face and through his hair. His father couldn't do this. No, Jeff couldn't leave New York. He couldn't leave the newsies. He sure as hell wouldn't leave Nick. No, not Nick. He would do anything that didn't involve leaving Nick. He couldn't imagine not being in New York. But he also couldn't say no to his father. Especially after Jeff got those two slaps from him tonight.

He still had a few weeks though. A few more weeks to finish the strike. To spend as much time with Nick as possible. Even if his father disapproved.

And maybe Nick didn't have to know that he was leaving.

* * *

_kindly asking for reviews/comments/questions/existential crises/sudden realizations/ etc... :) _


	8. Seizing the Day

_I'm sorry that my updating for this hasn't been very regular lately. I have a lot of other obligations keeping up my time and writing energy. I promise I'm not abandoning this story._

* * *

The usual morning energy settled over the city, just like it had every other morning. Everyone had a job in this city and everyone was expected to do it, whether it was at an office or in a sweatshop or selling in the streets. Man, woman, and even the smallest of children. It was a normal aspect of New York; no one questioned the routine in years.

Until now.

The striking newsies were gathered at the statue in the square across the street from the World, thinking that goofing off was a decent way to protest. Though, not much could be done until the gates opened. Citizens of New York passed by without a second glance. The strike had meant nothing to them yet.

Blaine looked around. He hadn't seen hide or tail of any of the scabs, especially the son of a bitch Thad. He wanted to be sure that Thad got what he was asking for today. They weren't going to go down without a fight today. Sebastian wanted to know if they were in the strike until the end. And Blaine was willing to prove it.

Jeff and Nick leaned against the statue, their shoulders brushing against each other quite noticeably, while Nick fiddled with a deck of cards just to keep his hands busy. Jeff was watching Blaine, scrutinizing his leader's every look and move.

Though it was Leo who spoke up first, "What'cha thinking about, Blaine?"

Blaine looked at Leo, suddenly snapped out of an apparently deep thought, "Nothin'."

"So what exac'ly are we supposed to do?" David asked, "Just wait here? Tell people we is on strike?"

Blaine shook his head, "Nah. We need to do more. Stop circulation. If we stop the scabs from sellin', stop the wagons from leavin', then we can take a stand. Get noticed."

"Noticed as in…?" Jeff asked.

"In this city people don't know nothin' unless it's in the papes. We need a front page story."

"Blaine, getting' on the front of the papes ain't that easy…" Nick pointed out, "Are you sure we can do it?"

"Hey Blaine…" Trent stepped forward before anyone else could speak up, "Maybe we should lay off for a while..." The dagger look that Blaine shot at Trent could've made even a Brooklyn newsie cower in fear. Trent held up his hands, "Hey I'm just sayin'…"

"Yeah Blaine…maybe we should back off. At least for a couple days." David added, "We ain't gettin' nothin' done just standin' around?"

"Where's this coming from?" Blaine demanded.

"Look at us Blaine," Wes said, "I don't think there's enough of us. Ya know, maybe we went about this too soon…"

"I say we forget about it for a little while." David added, not looking Blaine in the eye.

Blaine was staring at his boys like they'd just told him he had a second head.

Jeff couldn't believe what they were saying either. Even Nick looked like he was going to speak up, give in to the pressure. No, Jeff wouldn't let them give up so fast. He wasn't going to give his father the satisfaction. "Hey come on, guys." Jeff stepped forward, grabbing everyone's attention. "You all said you was in this for the long run. Are you just gonna to give up after a couple days?"

"Jeff—"

"No, come on. We can't go down without a fight. If we hold back now, Brooklyn will never join us." Jeff's voice was raised so everyone could hear him, "And what'll that show Sebastian? What'll that show _Sylvester_? If we give up, we'll go back to being doormats that she'll keep wipin' her shoes on. No one can make us give our rights away."

Nick's eyebrows shot up. He never thought Jeff would say something like this. If anything, Jeff was the most hesitant about the strike in the first place. And he was the one who didn't even need to fight with them. He was a muckety-muck after all. But hearing him say all this, it made Nick smile. The brunette clapped a hand around Jeff's shoulder.

"Now is the time to seize the day." That finally got people rallying around him. Jeff received multiple cheers and claps on the back for his words. They were back in this.

Blaine pulled himself up onto the statue, so he was now standing on the base of it, looking down at his gang, "One for all and all for one!" He yelled, fist pounding into the air, eliciting cheers in reply from the boys below him.

_"Proud and defiant, we'll slay the giant."_

That was when the bell rang, signaling the start of the paper distribution. And the scabs were finally showing up, too scared to show their faces to the strikers until they could safely get into the gates of the distribution center. It was cowardice, really.

The newsies let the scabs in, taunting and yelling as they did so. The ruckus was enough to stop passing pedestrians to see what was going on, at least for a few seconds. Maybe it seemed like more than just a bunch of kids being rowdy.

Blaine led his boys back across the street to the gates of the distribution center, only to greet Thad on the boy's way out, papes already bought and ready to sell. Thad's smirk faltered only slightly, but he kept his composure in front of his enemies. One against twenty. It was clear who had the upper hand here.

Blaine glared at his former friend, and kept quiet as the other gathered boys decided to taunt him.

"C'mon, Thad. Cross the line."

"Yeah, ya scab…"

"Come on Thad. Show us how high an' mighty ya really are."

Thad ignored them, keeping his eyes trained on Blaine. A few seconds of glaring passed between them, silent warnings to each other, before Thad attempted to push past Blaine to get past the crowd. Blaine was quick to shoot out his arm to block Thad's path, almost pushing Thad back. It had been a split second decision on Blaine's part. He was tired of Thad doing whatever he wanted and standing up on his fucking pedestal while he was at it. Thad was a no better newsie than anyone else here. Even worse now that he was a scab. Blaine was fucking sick of it. Thad was done getting away with this crap.

Thad sneered, obviously not happy about being stopped. He tried pushing past again but Blaine blocked him, giving him a slightly harder shove back. It shocked Blaine's crowd, and the action was followed by small warnings, "Whoa, whoa Blaine…" "Blaine, careful."

Before anyone knew it, Blaine slapped the stock of papes out of Thad's hands; they landed on the concrete with a smack. The entire scene froze, everyone shocked at what the newsie leader had just done. Thad bent over to pick up his papers again, but was thrown back when Blaine gave him another strong shove, enough to make Thad stumble back into the gates.

That's what started everything.

Thad tried to grab the newsies leader, but Blaine was better prepared. Thad was shoved back again and Blaine stormed after him his crowd following with cheers and hollers. Thad's papers were kicked by Jeff, sending pages flying. Nick grabbed some and ripped them in half before tossing them in the air. The newsies mobbed themselves into the distribution center.

It was a scene that soon became total chaos. The striking newsies made it into the gates, ready to take over and claim what was rightfully theirs. They were going to stop the papers from circulating. Groups of boys advanced on the scabs, pushing them back, taking their papers away or crowding the selling counter. Other boys made it to the wagons, knocking stacks of papers off or throwing them in the air. Boys were shoved and trampled, all of them yelling at one another trying to do their respective jobs: either storming into the center to strike or high tailing it out of there before they could get hurt. The windows were shut tight by Shuester before he Karofsky or Azimio could get involved in this mess.

As soon as the few employees of The World had locked themselves back in the building, the distribution center turned into a celebration, papers flying through the air, snowing over the wagons and the celebrating newsies. Papes couldn't circulate after this. The wagons were empty, one of them even overturned, the scabs were long gone, and the entire supply of today's edition was either torn up on the ground or drifting through the air over the crowd.

Somewhere out of the corner of his eye Blaine – from where he was perched on one of the wagons as he threw a fist in the air – the flash of a camera caught Blaine's eye.

There was commotion everywhere and it was enough to make Jeff's head spin. He was separated from Nick for a few minutes, but he was flooded with relief when he found his best friend again, "Nick!" Jeff ran over and the two boys smiled at each other. Jeff joined in throwing pieces and pages of papers everywhere. A day of success…

Until the whistles were heard. Griffin heard them first, and saw two police officers sprinting straight for the center. "Blaine!" Griffin screamed, "Blaine, it's the bulls!"

Blaine looked up from the wagon he'd just cleared off, panic swimming through him, "Hey scram! Get out, get out!" If any of them got nabbed by the police, it meant a one-way ticket to the Refuge.

The commotion instantly turned from a celebration to a crowded beeline for the gates. Most of them got out before the officers got there, others making it out because there were too many of them for the officers to handle. Boys ran every which way and Nick lost Jeff in the crowd. Jeff tried to keep an eye on Nick, who was just ahead of him. But he wasn't looking where he was going and he slipped on a page of newspaper on the ground. One twist of his ankle later, and Jeff fell to the pavement, getting minor kicks from the boys around him in the process. Pain shot through Jeff's ankle and Jeff cried out. Something was definitely twisted.

Nick turned around as soon as he heard Jeff cry out. Panic struck him when he saw Jeff lying on the ground. Nick noticed the same time one of the bulls did. Nick shoved some boys aside as he ran back to help his friend. He didn't care what exactly was wrong, he just knew he needed to get Jeff out of there before both of them ended up arrested. Nick lifted Jeff up and slung one of Jeff's arms around his shoulders. "C'mon Jeffie boy. We gotta get out of here!" He said quickly. Nick heart pounded and his breath quickened. Adrenaline pulsed through him as he went as fast as he could as he supported Jeff, who had to hop on one foot. They made it out of there before the cops could stop them

* * *

"C'mon Jeffie, just sit down…"

"I'll be fine, I swear."

"It still don't look good. Ya can't even walk."

A small rendezvous met up at a diner a few blocks from the Newsboy Lodging House, a good distance away from The World. Nick and Jeff had just barely made it away from the officer chasing them before Griffin found them struggling on the sidewalk. He pulled them into a side alley to hide until the officer was gone and told them a group was meeting at the diner. It took them about a half an hour to get there, but a group that included Blaine, Wes, David, Trent, Leo, and Luca greeted them. The rest of the place was fortunately vacant.

Nick and Griffin slowly lowered Jeff into a chair so he could finally sit down. Beads of sweat dotted Jeff's flushed face, and his breath came out as quick panting. And yet he was still insisting that he was fine.

"What happened?" Blaine asked as he pulled a chair up next to Jeff.

"I just tripped…my ankle kind of hurts. I'll be fine though…" Jeff suppressed a wince as he tried to move it.

Nick – who was kneeling in front of Jeff – carefully started untying Jeff's boot and slid it off as gently as possible, but not without a few cries of pain escaped Jeff's lips. Nick grimaced at what he saw: Jeff's ankle was swollen and red, even turning faintly purple. He kept it at a bent angle, slightly turned in towards the other foot. "Jeff, this don't look good…"

"Hey Denton!" Blaine hollered over to the waiter, "Can we get some ice over 'ere?"

"I'll be fine I swear." Jeff forced a half smile. "So how did we do today?" He asked, desperate for a change in conversation.

"I heard some people talkin' earlier…" Luca spoke up, "World circulation is almost entirely down for today. No one's getting their papes. Not from Sylvester, at least…"

"So we did it." Wes breathed, his head bobbing slightly, "We stopped the presses. We did it!" David threw an arm around his friend's shoulders.

"Yeah we did." Blaine said just as Denton came around with ice wrapped in a cloth and a tray of waters for the boys (Denton always had a liking towards the newsboys, usually offering them free waters and bread. He'd been a newsboy once after all). "But we can't get too big headed. We had a good day today. We gotta keep it up. Sylvester ain't gonna back down after one day."

Nick took the ice and carefully placed it on Jeff's swollen ankle, "Might wanna stay off this foot for a little while, Jeff."

The ice brought him a little relief, "Yeah…might as well. I can't go home like this though." Because 1. He wouldn't be able to make it all the way home and 2. His parents would be even more pissed than they already were.

"It's alright." Nick said, "Thad moved out of the boarding house the other day. Take his place."

"Take Thad's bed? Won't that turn me into a scab?" Jeff joked. He received a playful smack on the brim of his hat for that one.

The boys all took their glasses of water and split up into separate conversations. Nick was still kneeling in front of Jeff, keeping the ice in place with one hand while resting the other hand on Jeff's knee. The brunette gazed up at the blonde's face, where most of his color had returned. Nick reached up and wiped some beads of sweat off Jeff's cheek, his fingers lingering a little, "You sure you'll be alright, Jeffie?"

Jeff was all too aware of their closeness and the warm touch of Nick's firm hand on his knee. His cheek tingled under Nick's touch, and he wasn't sure why. He brushed the feeling off, "Yeah…I'll be fine. I've got Doctor Nicky to take care of me." He teased.

Nick laughed, "Don't call me Nicky. It took me forever to get out of that nickname when I first joined the newsies."

"But you're allowed to call me Jeffie?"

"It's a term of endearment, Jeffie-boy."

Jeff chuckled and placed his hand on top of Nick's. They stayed like that in a comfortable silence for a few moments. Nick still had a look of concern on his face as he kept doing double takes between Jeff's eyes and his swollen ankle, looks that Jeff cued into immediately. He gave Nick's hand a small squeeze while leaning forward to look Nick in the eye, "I'll be fine, alright?"

Nick smiled, turning his hand over so he could properly grasp Jeff's "Okay, Jeff."

* * *

_Observation while writing: writing scenes that are supposed to be musical numbers is really awkward when the boys are not singing in this story XD_

_I haven't started the next chapter yet so it will be a while. I'm sorry!_


	9. Kings of New York

_Hello! I deeply apologize for how long it took for this update. I'm very busy with school and working on theater productions, and I dedicate a lot of time to a Dalton roleplay...__Anyway, I have every intent on finishing this story, even while RP-ing and while starting other fics I intend to write._

_More newsie slang terms, just in case:  
bull(s) - the police  
_

* * *

"Ya doin' alright there, Jeffie-boy?"

"Yeah, Wes. I'm fine."

"Ya sure? We're good at carryin' papes. We can carry ya if we need to." Wes made a sudden move towards Jeff, throwing his arms around Jeff's torso and jokingly tried to lift Jeff off his feet. Jeff tattempted to jump away, but his injured ankle limited his escape. Wes was laughing and pulled away after a few seconds after Nick swatted him away from Jeff.

Jeff chuckled and shook his head, "I don't need to be carried, Wes." Jeff had stayed off his ankle for the night, and he was only limping now with very few spasms of pain shooting up his leg.

Nick's arm found its way around Jeff's middle and Jeff instinctively threw an arm around Nick too, "Keep your hands to yourself, Wes."

Blaine stared at the arm Nick had around Jeff as he held the diner door open for his boys to enter. Wes and David were snickering, Griffin shooting Nick a smirk behind his back. Blaine shook his head and followed his boys into the diner. The boys were, again, the only customers besides two men sitting in the far corner. Denton came around and handed the newsies glasses of water.

Nick helped Jeff sit down and Nick took a spot next to him, "Alright Blaine," He turned to the leader, "What's with this meetin'?"

Blaine motioned for the rest of the boys to gather around the table and he leaned in to address them, "I got a letter from Kurt last night. He told us to meet him here. I don't know what for, but he said he'd meet us here 'round noon."

And like clockwork, the door to the diner opened with a clang of the bell, and Kurt Hummel came striding in, a smile lighting up his entire face, like nothing could bring him down. "I have it!" Kurt pulled a newspaper out of his back pocket, unrolled it, and slapped it down on the table in front of Jeff and Nick.

"Yeah, an' what is that, exac'ly?" Wes asked, a slight sneer in his voice.

"It's what you guys have been waiting for." Kurt beamed.

"Whoa!" Jeff exclaimed, holding up the paper to get a better look at the front page. Nick was also leaning in over Jeff's shoulder, his shocked yet excited expression mirroring Jeff's, "You got us on the front page!"

It was an instantaneous reaction. The boys clambered over each other, crowding around Jeff and Nick – effectively squishing them closer together, just to get a glimpse of the front page. Right at the top, capital letters for everyone to see, read:

_THE CHILDREN'S CRUSADE:_

_NEWSIES STOP THE WORLD_

Below the headline was one the boys all instantly recognized. It was a picture of them the other day, when they overtook the distribution center: Blaine was front and center, standing on one of the wagons, fist proudly pumped into the air. Papers circled around him, and the other newsboys were seen at his feet, looking just as proud and successful as their leader. Nick easily spotted him and Jeff in the corner of the picture, Nick's arm slung around Jeff's shoulders as both of them celebrated.

Blaine snatched the paper from the table as he stood up on his chair to address everyone. He held the paper to his chest, front page facing out for everyone to see, "Guys, this is it: we're front page! We made the headlines!" The boys cheered, and Blaine gave out a few high fives to his crew.

The paper got passed around between the boys, eventually making it to Luca, "So what does this mean? We make the headline, now what?"

"It means everythin'!" Wes exclaimed, "You're in the papes you're famous. You can do whatever you want. And that's what's so great about livin' in New York!"

"You make the front page of the papes, you're the talk of the city." Nick said. "You become…" Nick trailed off, trying to think of the proper word.

Jeff snatched the paper from Wes' hand and stood up on his chair, "Kings of New York!"

The diner erupted into celebratory commotion again. All of the boys were jittery with excitement bubbling through them. Jeff sat back down, soaking in the moment as the boys named off their new prospective opportunities with their newfound fame.

"_A pair of new shoes with matchin' laces."_

"_A permanent box at the Sheep's Head Races."_

"_Pastrami on rye with a sour pickle!"_

"_My personal puss on a wooden nickel!"_

"_Look at me! I'm the king of New York!"_

Nick sat back down next to Jeff, an arm instinctively slung around the blonde's shoulders, "Check it out Jeffie-boy. We is in the papes. We can all be muckety-mucks like you now, kid."

Jeff rolled his eyes, "I ain't no muckety-muck anymore, Nick." Jeff said. "My old man'll probably kill me out after this."

"Hey don't worry 'bout that Jeff." Griffin said, taking the paper from him, "Ya got us know. Ya got front-page fame now too."

"Not for long." Blaine chipped in, "Front pages only last a day."

"Hey, Blaine, tomorrow they may wrap fishes in it," Nick said, a smile crossing his face, "but we were stars for one whole minute!"

The newsies cheered again. Some boys even leapt onto the tables to improvise some dance moves. The boys were in a heightened state of excitement, enlightened by their own headline. Instead of selling papers, they were making the papers.

Blaine stayed off on the sidelines of the commotion, leaning on the table next to Kurt, "Star reporter got us on the headlines."

Kurt smirked, "You got yourselves there. Now we just have to make sure you stay there. The people in this city can't ignore the news, especially the front page. That's the power of the presses. You boys have a voice in this city now. But we have to make sure this voice doesn't die down."

"Don't worry, we ain't gonna back down." Blaine reassured Kurt. "We're in this 'till the end."

"Let's just hope The Sun does the same."

Blaine looked up at Kurt, "What do you mean?"

"My paper is the only one publishing strike news. Sylvester's got a hold on The World and The Journal. But word has it that Sylvester's eventually going to convince the owner of The Sun to hike the price and cease any news that she doesn't approve."

Blaine frowned, staying silent as he went back to watching the boys' celebration die down. The diner began to get more and more crowded with customers as the morning drew on, and Denton had to usher the boys out of the place so he could serve the paying customers. The newsies left out of respect for Denton, and quickly went their own ways into the city. Nick and Jeff headed towards Central Park, which included passing by the World, which was in its full morning swing. The wagons were leaving the distribution center, and a group of four scabs were right behind them.

Nick was glaring at the scabs as they passed, receiving a few glares in return, a menacing one from Thad himself. The number of scabs had died down since the first day of the strike. But Nick was still ready to soak any scoundrel who still decided to cross the line.

"No good, lousy scabs." Nick said just loud enough for them to hear him.

Thad scoffed at Nick and Jeff. He held his stack of papers under his arm as he stepped closer to the boys, only about a foot of space between them. Nick's gaze didn't waver as Thad spoke again, "At least we're still decent working boys of the city." He said, his air of superiority making Jeff's anger rise.

"_Decent_? At least we're brave enough to stand for something we believe in, Thaddeus." Nick hissed, crossing his arms.

"Yeah right. The whole lot of you'll fall, just like you're friend here." Thad was quick in his motions, taking his stack of papes in both hands and shoving them harshly into Jeff's chest. The blonde, caught completely off guard and hindered by his bad leg, stumbled for a second before falling back onto the pavement, Thad's papers making a mess on and around him.

Something snapped inside Nick, his anger taking over. Everything happened at once. Nick reacted quickly, shoving Thad off his feet, only for him to be caught by the scabs behind him before he fell. Nick advanced on Thad again, trying to shove and grab him more. But before he knew it, he was surrounded, scabs grabbing and pushing him as he fought out of their grasps, trying desperately to fight them off so he could properly give Thad what he deserved. He threw a few punches and slaps around him, only connecting to another body a few times – one was luckily to Thad's nose. The ringing in Nick's ears masked out the yelling coming from all directions, him being at the center of it all, trying to protect Jeff while the scabs protected their own leader.

Jeff's heart raced as he awkwardly pulled himself up on his feet again. His tunnel vision focused in on Nick, determined to pull him out of the fight. Jeff soon found himself grabbed by his shirt, two scabs forcing to stay out of the main fight, keeping him away from Nick and Thad. "Let go of me!" Jeff put up a struggle, but he was still too weakened to get them to release him.

The sound of the whistles broke through the air, snapping all of the boys to attention, and sending them scattering as soon as the bulls came into view. Jeff was dropped to the ground, pain shooting through his leg. He struggled to pull himself up again, and he soon felt more hands on him.

As soon as he heard the bulls, Nick's attention snapped from Thad to finding Jeff. Boys ran every which way, all dead set on not getting caught. Scab or not, they couldn't afford to get arrested. Nick knew he had to get out of there, but he needed to find Jeff first.

The mob cleared away, and Nick's eyes locked in on the blonde: held by both arms by Karofsky and Azimio as a police officer secured cuffs around Jeff's wrists. _No…no no no…_ "Jeff!" Nick screamed.

"Nick help!" Jeff locked eyes with his friend for a small second before getting dragged away by the two hulking brothers.

Nick didn't even get the chance to run towards his friend, because a hand grabbed him from behind. Struggling was useless, because Blaine's grip was strong as he pulled Nick away from the scene. Griffin was also right there, taking Nick's other arm as he and Blaine pulled him away. "Let go of me! We need to save Jeff!"

"Not if you're going to get arrested too!" Griffin led them around the corner, into a vacant alley.

Blaine pushed Nick against the brick building, keeping him in place, "One of you in the Refuge is enough."

Nick tried desperately to catch his breath, his heart and head still racing from the event he had just been a part of. Thad pushed Jeff, so Nick initiated a fight…the bulls came and…now Jeff was gone…Nick slumped down to the ground, covering his face with his hands. Hard as he tried, he couldn't get that image of Jeff, his Jeff, getting dragged away by the police, the look of pure terror in the blonde's eyes sending a chill down Nick's spine. Jeff was off to the Refuge right this very moment. And Nick was just sitting here doing nothing about it.

"Nick, come on." He felt Griffin nudging his shoulder, "We can't stay here. The bulls are still around."

The bulls…the same ones that took Jeff away…Nick looked up, "I need to go there…I-I need to get Jeff out."

"No way, Nicholas." Blaine said with finality, "One of you in the Refuge is enough. Havin' both of you in there isn't going to help anyone."

"But I need to help him!" Nick stood up unsteadily from his sitting position, his body shaking, "Jeff won't last a week in that place. And I can't just _leave_ him there!"

"Nick, listen to me," Blaine put his hands on Nick's trembling shoulders, looking him right in the eye, "Jeff's a strong kid—" _Even if he is a muckety-muck_, but Blaine didn't want to say that, "—He'll be alright. Ya need to calm down, kid. We'll figure somethin' out."

Nick felt obligated to nod at his leader's command. It's not like he could say no to that. But even as the three boys made their way back to the Newsboy Boarding House, Nick was still consumed with thoughts of his blonde friend, and how he wasn't there beside him anymore.

* * *

_I've been waiting to write that cliffhanger for a long time 8D_

_Reviews, comments, questions, epiphanies, crises, stories? :)_


	10. Author's Note

_Author's Note_

_Hey everyone! Sadly, this is not an update to the story. This is a note saying that I will not be able to work on Newsies Sell Papes for another few weeks. _

_I get out of school in the beginning of May, and until then I'm working on a show then going almost immediately into finals. I'd like to focus on the show and my schoolwork and get everything done before continuing to write._

_This also applies to the stories I have on quoth-the-warbler. I haven't been able to work on those recently either. _

_Anyway, once I'm done with school, I'll have much more time to finish this story and continue/start my other fics. Sorry for the inconvenience :(_

_-Megan_


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